


Stitches

by Larrypotter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky - Freeform, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Tony Stark, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Postivive Woman Role Models, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Rhodey, Protective Sarah Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Sarah Rogers Loves Tony Stark, Sarah Rogers is awesome, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Steve Rogers, Underage Drinking, tony stark tries so hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrypotter/pseuds/Larrypotter
Summary: "Did it hurt?""When I fell from heaven?""When you nearly fucking died, asshole."Sometimes Tony wishes the explosion had killed him, had given him the escape from the world that he was longing for, to take away the physiological pain that was the result of years of hidden abuse and torture.And then he meets Steve who gives him all types of mixed feelings about the idea of death.





	1. Tony

 

Tony was always in trouble

You could say that this, Tony getting into trouble, started when he was young and it just seemed to get worse as he got older. It started with the simplest of things, stealing a cookie when Jarvis wasn't looking or maybe hiding Anna's purse whenever she left it in the kitchen, and okay, you could say that was Tony being Tony, a boy just being a boy. It was when he got older, started school, graduated high school and got into MIT that his trouble really started to alert everyone.

He was 15 when he started MIT, the youngest to ever be accepted but by far the brightest student to ever attend. Tony didn't need his Fathers money to pay his way into a successful college, he was intelligent, witty and maybe he was a sarcastic smart ass but hey, that was who Tony was and nothing was going to change that about him.

Maybe it was because he was the youngest on campus, that he just wanted to fit with the first crowd of people that seemed to take an interest in him, but whatever it was Tony's trouble - as Rhodey continued to call it - had landed him him in a ditch; face first, ass up. It was a whirlwind of Alcohol that made his body all numb, Drugs that helped ease the pain in his head and sex; fuck was the sex amazing.

Exploring his sexuality was never something that Tony thought about before going to MIT, he didn't care if he liked a cock up his ass or have his face between some girls breast and hey, the guys on campus didn't seem to care either. Tony was handsome, a right baby face on campus that the guys seemed to love and really, Tony didn't care what they did to him as he was too numb to even know what was happening.

Rhodey; Tony's little angel. The guy was a saviour that pulled him out of ditches and held the bucket while Tony threw up until his stomach was turned inside out. Tony must've done something good in a past life to deserve Rhodey, to have the older man take him under his wing and make sure that he didn't die of alcohol poisoning or get fucked up behind a frat house.

James 'Rhodey' Rhodes was the closest being that Tony has ever had as a brother, a best friend and God did Tony love the guy a lot. He was on Tony Starks very very very short list of people that he adored - also on the list being Jarvis, Anna, his Mom and Aunt Peggy - and believe me, not a lot of people made that list.

Don't get Tony wrong, he loves his Mom an awful lot because c'mon, Maria Stark was his Mom no matter if she was absent from his life from a young age and had a strong relationship with gin and painkillers. Maria Stark might not have been the best mother, but She loved her son.

Tony's relationship with Howard could be the source of a lot of his problems. He couldn't necessarily blame Howard for everything bad that has happened in his life, but he could very well try. Tony was a child of rebellion from the minute he could start talking back to Howard's smack talk or lift a hand up himself to defend his face from any more cuts or bruises. Psychiatrists were full of shit, telling Tony that his Troubled ways was for his Dear ol' Daddy dearest attention; It wasn't.

If Tony wanted to get Howard's attention, he would've done something beyond the line of stupidity, something that would put his life at risk and nearly kill him

Like tampering with one of the Prototype 'Stark Missiles' in Howard's workshop and having it explode in front of Tony

The story of How Tony meets Steve starts in the hospital, with a 16 year olds life on the line with 3rd degree burns and pieces of shrapnel digging into his chest, aiming for his heart and slowly but surely killing him. Tony didn't look like Tony, the 3rd degree burns that was attacking his flesh made him look almost zombie like, too scary for his mother to look at without screaming in terror of what has happened to her son.

Tony is sure he's going to die, I mean, he would be sure of it if he was conscious but he's not. The blast was strong enough to send him flying across the workshop, crashing into the liquor Cabinet that Howard kept in there for nights that he got frustrated and needed a numbing burn to slide down his throat. The impact knocked him out, the cabinet falling on top of him.

Lucky enough, Howard and Maria were on the drive back from the annual Stark ball when the explosion happened, and even luckier that Tony was home and that no one else was in Stark mansion whenever it happened or he would never forgive himself for the Injury of others. He'd rather risk the death of himself over the death of others he cared for.

_What a wonderful Christmas_


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And okay, Steve may be your local hero who was ready to climb a tree to save your damn stupid cat or run to the local supermarket just because you forgot milk, but that didn't mean he didn't get into some sort of trouble. Bucky has had to drag Steves ass out of a handful of fights he has caught himself in, busted up in the face and bruised in the torso.

Steve was what Bucky called, a model citizen

Or what Clint calls him; your everyday superhero.

Which, if you asked Steve was poppycock because Steve didn't see himself as a model citizen, or a superhero. He was just a teenager that seemed to do a lot of good things in his life, like helping out at youth centres for less fortunate kids or doing the weekly shopping for his elderly next door neighbor Reta. He wasn't a damn superhero, there were far more people on earth who deserved that title and he wasn't one of them.

Okay, and so what if he was a nice guy, had a body that was probably crafted by the gods and a face that anyone would die for, that didn't mean Steve was amazing at everything that he did, because let me tell you, He wasn't. Steve wasn't the honour student in his class, getting all of the A's and class president, no, he was the bellow average kid with a skill for art and spent more time in the gym than on school grounds.

 _But_ he wasn't stupid, he just needed that little bit of leverage to push him towards a better education - and maybe a kick in the ass from Natasha - and maybe a chance in a college of his choice. Steves mindset was always focused on the better of others, he was the mother, the fairy godmother, the parent of his variety bunch of friends.

From the moment he was walking and talking, Steve always felt as if he _needed_ to look after every person he met, despite the fact that he started off in life as a sickly babe who could be blown over by the slightest of colds. He developed, just like anybody else, and with that so did his need to look after his friends, his mother and anyone he thought needed his help.

Sarah Rogers was a hardworking and devoting mother to Steve, she was what Steve would say, the best mother that he could ever be blessed with, and in a lot of ways, she was. She might've been hardworking and yeah, okay, Steve didn't see her all that often depending on her shift at the hospital, but she worked hard to give Steve everything and Steve couldn't ask for a better mother than that.

Joseph Rogers was a man that Steve hated the sound of his name, the man had left when Steve was 10, walked out the door after slapping around his mother for the years of their marriage. Steve was glad that he was gone, he was a waste of a father and an even shittier husband. His mum deserved better, she deserved the moon, she believed that whatever Steve wanted to do, or be, where ever he'll go, that he'll have a good life and that's all the support he needed.

Steve had a weird, outgoing bunch of friends, all brought together because maybe they weren't all the brightest, or a jock, they weren't sorted into a popular group of meatheads and bimbos nor were they getting awards for being goodie two shoes.

They were an odd mixture, from Clint Barton - the guy who seemed to take nothing seriously and was probably failing everything but Phys ed -, Bruce Banner - the only intelligent being in their group -, Natasha Romanova - probably the most attractive girl in school but would kick your balls into your stomach -, Thor Odinson - A jock who didn't really fit in well with the jocks -, Phil Coulson - the father to Steves Mother instincts - and James 'Bucky' Barnes - a teen who has seen too much but was a solider at heart.

Steve loved his odd group of friends because they might've been through a lot, and the fight an awful lot, but they always came back together at the end of the day.

And okay, Steve may be your local hero who was ready to climb a tree to save your damn stupid cat or run to the local supermarket just because you forgot milk, but that didn't mean he didn't get into some sort of trouble. Bucky has had to drag Steves ass out of a handful of fights he has caught himself in, busted up in the face and bruised in the torso.

You could say, that's how Steve wounded up in hospital 3 days before Christmas, with a busted lip, nose and eyebrow and a few broken ribs. I mean, it could've been worse, he could've ended up like the guy he was fighting. It wasn't as if he fought for the sake of fighting, he did it for the little guy that couldn't fight for himself or the asshole at a party that tried to ruin it for everyone else.

He knew his mum was going to flip shit when she spots her son in a hospital bed, nursing a broken nose and bandaged up chest. He was going to ruin the annual Christmas photo that the Rogers and Barnes usual took on Christmas Eve.


	3. Chapter One

Tony would like to say that he has a half decent life, he wouldn't go as far as saying he has the best life ever - because wasn't Naive and could clearly say to anybody freely that some parts of his life was utter shit - but it wasn't as if his life was the worse. Yeah, okay, he had parents that really couldn't give a shit about where he went, who he was with or how much money that spent, but he had people that do care about him, it wasn't as if he was on his own.

His time lived on campus was what he would like to say, is a lot better than at home. Stark Mansion was too _big_ , too _empty_ and too _sad_ for the remaining occupants of the house.  Maybe it was different when Tony was little, where there was a Nanny that tended to his every boo-boo and numerous tutors that taught Little Tony Stark the Ins and Outs of mathematics. Now, the house barely consisted off Howard and Maria.

Going back during the Holidays always helped like a chore, of course he loved to see his Mother - if she was even at the Mansion - and Jarvis - the man that has done so Much Tony and Tony could not be more grateful of - but it felt liked effort. That he had to go home, with a smile on his face and act like things were okay, to lick up Howard's Ass - and then receive backlashes for disproving his authority.

Most of the time, Tony would have the Mansion to himself. Howard and Maria would be off to another home, another island that the Starks owned and called their own. Okay, and sometimes Tony would take advantage of being home alone and have a party packed to the roof with young adults doing all sorts of drugs - and it was safe to say, that Jarvis wouldn't tell a soul because he was more loyal to Tony than to any other Stark - but then, There were times that Tony just locked himself in his fathers workshop and fiddled with tools.

The Stark Christmas ball was a grand advent that has been held since Tony can remember, it was all marvellous ball growns that probably cost half a fortune, Tuxedos that make the men look ravishingly handsome and foods imported from all around the world just to fit guests requests. It was an advent that everyone who was _somebody_ was invited too and of course; The Starks were the main attraction.

Of course, Tony doesn't attend and he didn't want to either. He found them boring, with overly snobbish beings with rods so far up their asses that they would need to be surgically removed, with overly propaganda type food that Tony couldn't even pronounce and of course, he'd have to be licking up Howard's ass for the entire night so not to look like a disrespectful, I'll-mannered son.

At this point in time, Tony would like to say he wished he did attend for once in his life, because then maybe he wouldn't be waking up from a 2 day comma and be feeling like some sort of groggy zombie who has just been shaken away from a peaceful slumber. His body is stiff and sore, there's an ache in his chest that has never been there and his skin was hot, hard and aching.

There's a voice pulling him further and further out his slumber, it was unfamiliar, annoying and way too sickly sweet for Tony's liking. The female - because Tony has deemed the voice a little too high and a lot softer than a males - seems to be taking to Tony as if he was a child who could not understand the simple meaning of no, as if he had lost all sense of mind and had no idea who he was or where he was.

Okay, so he doesn't know where he is but he damn well knows he's Tony Stark.

"Tony?"And God, _will someone please tell her to be quiet_? Tony is begging in his head, just wanting to roll over and pull the covers over his head and catch a couple of more hours of sleep. Unlike a majority of teenagers - other than those that suffered from insomnia or other sleeping problems like that - Tony didn't waste his weekends away from sleeping, and he often found sleeping as a luxury, something he had to earn the right to do."Tony, Can you hear me?"

"O' course I can 'ear you,"Tony's words come out muttered, slurred and almost sounding as if he as confused because he is, in some sort of way because he has no idea what has happened or where he is or why his mouth feels like a bunch of cotton balls have been stuffed in his mouth, making him seem unable to speak correctly without him sounding like he has just had a stroke."You won' shut up."

"You're awake,"She sounds stunned and overjoyed. Tony can feel hands over his face, above his closed eyes, fingers peeling back his eyelids and a shining light being shone into his left eye. He winces, wanting to bat away the prying hands but his arms feel too heavy for him too lift."This is quicker than we thought you would recover."

It happens too quickly, because before Tony can speak again, demand where he is, who was this person peeling at his eyelids and talking way too sweetly is, Tony is falling into another bout of dreamless slumber almost instantly.

When Tony awakes again, this time, it's on his own accord and he's on his own. Replacing the sickly sweet voice is the continuous beeping sound of the all too familiar heart monitor, monitoring Tony's heart beat that seemed a little too slow for his liking. The cotton ball feeling is still in his mouth, mouth dry from lack of swallowing and hoarse from lack of speaking.

Everything hits Tony like a tidal wave, The Grand Stark Christmas Ball which Tony has no interest in attending, and so, our of sheer boredom of being stuck in the mansion on his own, had wangled his way into Howard's Workshop to play with some tools. It backfired, because Tony has probably the worse luck in the world when it came to anything remotely involved with Howard Stark.

Despite his eyelids practically being glued to a close, Tony's eyes pop open quick enough in alert and shaking fear. There are bright lights beaming above him, making the teenager wince and have the urge to snap his eyes close once again, but he's too determined to see the damage done to his body.

There's a trail of wires coming out from the back of his left hand, leading to the heart monitor and a fluids sack, as his eyes trail further up to his body he notices the white fabric bandages tightly wrapped around his biceps, his shoulders and chest, making him unable to see the da mange done to his skin, but he already fears the worse.

What sticks out, is the unmissable blue glow that is noticeable under the thick swabs of bandages that bind his chest. When Tony lists his hand - which takes more effort that he would like to admit - the tips of his fingers can see the sharp, curved edge of whatever is sticking 0.5cm out of the middle of his chest. It didn't hurt to touch, it was just abnormal and spiked Tony's interests further.

"You're awake,"There's someone new in his private hospital room, tall, slim built and on the wrong side of 40. Tony has filled with the Hospital bed enough to have it elevated in a way that the thing sticking out of his chest isn't causing him any pain and it allows him to see around the rather dull room.

The staff that has tended to Tony seem to be half decent, Tony wouldn't say they were his favourite people to have prodding him with doses of painkillers or to wipe him down with a sponge but then again, they were only doing their job. It wasn't a surprise that Tony has seen so sign of Howard or Maria.

"I am,"Tony all but replies sullenly, coffee coloured brown eyes narrowed in on the doctor that enters further into a room. He was all kind smiles and Hellos, holding a thick file that Tony has no doubts about holds all of his medical records since his birth."Your staff seem to like prodding me with drugs to knock me out, so it is a surprise."

"It seems that you're getting back to good health."Tony can identify that this man isn't American, his voice is laced with an accent that is still thick on certain letters but has probably lived a long enough life in the states. He's a balding man, with rectangular silver glasses perched on the bridge of his long nose.

"Good health? I don't know if you're unable to see or not, but I have a metal sticking out of his chest and the skin under my bandages feels like melted rubber. I am the furthest away from _Good fucking health_."Despite the venom Tony wishes was behind his voice as he spoke to the doctor, it comes out hoarse and throaty.

"I see that you are under a lot of stress, this is something new that you shall have to accustom too, Mr Stark."He treats Tony like an adult, which he seems to like. He doesn't try to dumb down his words or try and speak in a gentle manner, because the media knows of Tony Stark, a rouge teenager who deems himself indestructible.

The Doctor Introduces himself as Dr. Ho Yinsen, and he explains throughout the process he had went though to accustom the new found Arc Reactor magnet in Tony's chest, which would stop the piece of Shrapnel from the missile from entering his chest and killing him. Tony seems to take it in his stride, he nods, he asks questions and is pretty calm whenever Yinsen explains what would happen if the arc reactor is damaged and broken.

Luckily enough, the burnt, rubbery flesh of his skin isn't as bad as Tony thought. Maria had managed to convince Howard to pay Tony's way further up the skin graft list which was a start, seeing as Tony didn't have to live with the rubbery flesh forever. There was harsh brushing scattering Tony's back and neck from the impact of the explosion sending him into the Liquor cabinet and numerous little cuts and bruises on his face.

It could've been worse

He could've been dead

"Is there any further questions you would like to ask, Mr Stark?"Yinsen had perched himself on the edge of Tony's Hospital bed, in a way that respected Tony's personal space and that he was no longer talking down to Tony in anyway.

"Will I always need this?"Tony asks, trying his best not to stare at the glowing blue under the thickness of the bandages. Yinsen graciously showed Tony the designs of the arc reactor and Tony has to admit that it was pretty impressive and didn't look as shabby as Tony had thought it would. It would be visible under most of his clothing and unfortunately enough, there would be scaring around the arc reactor.

"For the mean time, yes."He pauses,"But in the future, when technology and science is more advanced, there could be a possible way of removing the pieces of shrapnel from your chest without doing you further harm. There is always hope."So in the end, Tony believes that is that, and he will stuck with the godawful thing in this chest until his dying day.


	4. Chapter Two

Sarah Rogers would proudly say with confidence that she's proud of how her son turned out, because Steve might not be the smartest cookie or the best child to walk the earth, but he was confident, loyal and had a golden heart. Sarah Rogers sees Steve as the best thing to come out of her rocky marriage, and yes okay, Steve might not be the best and he was no goodie two shoes, but he was _not_ his father which she was glad of.

Today, however, is a prime example how good natured her son is.

This wasn't how Steve intended on spending the start of his Christmas break, he has planned on going home after the bus dropped him off near the supermarket close to his home and get changed into a fresh pair of clothes and then head out with his group, but of course that didn't happen.

He had been passing the supermarket when he heard a cry for help, and Steve with his damn good hearing and always sensing trouble, had of course lurked to find out where the cry of help was coming from and what was happening. He stumbled across a bunch of ill-mannered teens beating up a defenceless homeless man, and Steve being Steve, he wasn't going to allow them to continue.

So, in the end, Steve had managed to fight off 2 out of 3 of the teens that were causing ruckus just because but the time he was fighting the 3rd teen off, someone had phoned for an ambulance after taking in the homeless mans appearance after the beating. The flashing lights of blue and white had scared off all three teens, leaning Steve and the homeless man in the parametric's hands.

"I asked for one thing, Steve, and that was for you to _not_ get into any sort of trouble before Christmas but here we are, in the same place with you injured and another Christmas photo ruined."Sarah Rogers fumes, trying her best not to flip out and break her sons nose any further as she secures a piece of medical tape over his nose.

"I was doing it-"

"For the little guy, I know."She cuts him off, always hearing the same excuse over and over again. She sighs, stepping back and examining the damage that has happened to Steve. His wounds were freshly stitched with paper stitches which would dissolve soon enough, ribs bruised and two cracked and nose broken with a mould over the bridge to keep it in place."But you can't keep doing this Steve, one day you're going to get hurt, badly, and stitches and bandages won't be able to fix it."

It's a mothers groping fear for her son to get hurt, so badly enough that it leaves them scarred, disabled or dead. As a nurse and a mother, Sarah Rogers has had to witness the death of children, the Grieving of parents. It was the worse part of her job, to see a teen of Steves age be hooked up to life support machines or have life saving emergency surgery to fill the gaping hole in the middle of their chest.

"Well when that time comes, it will come."Sooner than one thinks. There's a voice in the back of his head that is telling him, almost like a beg to tell him mom now of his plans for the future, that if he is unsuccessful in school - and let's face it, he isn't doing all that well despite all of the tutoring that Bruce is giving him on the weekends - that he's going to enrol into the army.

Steve knows that Sarah isn't going to take it well, of course she won't. Steve is her only son, the only person in her life not to die or get up and leave. No mother wants to see their child - never mind their _only_ child - head off to war, not knowing if they will return with open arms and kiss to the cheek or in a coffin with the American flag draped across in respect.

Luckily enough, the sensible voice is Steves voice reasons and Steve doesn't open his mouth and speak anything about the army.

"What am I going to do with you, boy."She shakes her head with a sigh. Steve is so handsome and it's a pity to see him battered and bruised, with life lasting scars across his chest and face that only remain because he keeps picking at them before they can heal or are too deep to cover up completely."I need to wrap you up in cotton wool."

"You don't need to, you _want_ to."Steve corrects, a drawl in his voice as he speaks."And anyway, I'm fine. It's not life threatening and it's not as if I'm house bounded."Steve gives his mom a look, watching how her shoulders sag with a loud sigh as he looks longingly at her son, almost as if she's trying to calculate what is going on in his head, reading his mind.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, I'll sign you out."She still has the remainder of her shift to complete, unlucky for her, she has the graveyard shift but it was overtime pay which means double the money than a regular shift."Do you need money for a bus or can one of your friends pick you up?"

"I'll get a lift from 'Tasha."He informs, staggering off of the hard hospital bed that his mum had ushered him on whenever she spotted him sitting in the hallway, left by parametric's rim his oath staff to take care of. His injuries weren't life threatening for a doctor to be involved, and despite hospital rules about family aiding family, she had mended Steve herself.

It also gave her the excuse to scowl at him

Sarah sends him off with a cautious kiss on his cheek, patting his forearm to send him off, telling him that she'll sign him out and that he's free to go.

The hospital that his mom works in is all to familiar for Steve. He had spent a lot of his childhood in the hospital, and it wasn't because he was always getting into petty little fights with other boys because they were picking on someone else, but because he was often right along during weekends and spent his after school days here, in the waiting rooms and in the hallways.

Doctors, Nurses and long staying staff new Steve pretty well, and if it wasn't because of Sarah Rogers constantly showing off photographs of her son and boasting about how much of a wonderful boy he is, it was because they have known Steve for years. They all knew he was a generous boy, sneaking in chocolates and buns to the elderly that just suffered a broken hip or little kids that have just undergone operations.

"Good evening, Steve."A doctor nods Steves way whenever he spots the teen walking the halls in boredom as he waits to be picked up. He had disturbed Natasha with a phone call obviously at the wrong time, seeing as she was _not_ happy when he phoned which meant he had to wait lunge to be picked up, not that he minded.

"Hello Doctor Caldwell."He nods with a polite smile, continuing his venture down the corridor. He gives polite smiles and little waves as he walks, peering into side rooms that he knows people that are in and getting a chorus of greetings whenever he passes one of the open wards. He's passing a room which makes me stop dead in his tracks.

"Whoa, wait, I don't think you should be doing that."He frets, the door wide open which gives him the view of the male that is standing on one of the hospital chairs, his head caught between the hospital room tv and the wall that it hangs on, making agitated grunts.

The male wasn't wearing a hospital gown unlike most patients but he knew he wasn't a normal technician fixing the television due to the hospital identification bracelet around his wrist and the heart monitor and IV drip attached to him. They are in a private room, the only difference being the television that hangs on the wall and the slightly bigger side.

"And I don't think you should be interfering with what I'm doing."He grumbles back, his back to Steve as he fiddles with a couple of wires that were hanging out the back of the tv."You can either help me fix this fucking television or go away."

"You're sick, I don't think you should be up and about. That is what I was pointing out."Steve soothes, his hands out as he walks further into the room."But I mean, you should leave it to the hospital technician to fix the television."

"Ha!"He laughs."Now either shut up and leave or fetch me a screwdriver, a universal one if you can, one that can be changed to fit multiple screws Incase you don't know what universal means."They inform, voice muffled with concentration and not even spearing Steve a glance who is hanging around the doorframe, unsure if he should step into the room and hold the chair so that the teen doesn't fall.

"Um, okay-"

"-And also a cheeseburger, I've been craving for one since I woke up. I really love cheeseburgers, tried to get a nurse to sneak one in but they all hate me and basically told me to go to hell."Steve can tell that he's rolling his eyes, the way he huffs out a breath."I mean they can join the list, it's pretty long."

When Steve struggles for a reply, they finally turn from their place of standing on the chair, mouth falling into an O shape and coffee coloured eyes going wide in realisation that he wasn't talking to hospital staff, but to a patient that equally looks as battered and bruised.

"You're not medical staff, shit, and here I am ordering you around."They nibble on their bottom lip, bringing a hand up to rest on the opposing wall for balance and using the other to run over his brow. Steve swallows thickly, taking in the little details of the teenager that is balancing on the chair.

He can't help but notice the little scars that litter his arms and wrists, or the cuts around his face or the bruising on his cheek. He wears a dark tank top that dips low at his chest, exposing the bandages that cover his shoulders, biceps and chest. What makes Steve freeze is the odd blue light that glows from the teenagers chest, circle in shape and right in the middle.

"You don't have to get me a cheeseburger, but I need a screwdriver. If I'm not allowed to have my bots in my hospital room, at least I can do is fix this television."He grumbles, his annoyance making his heart monitor beep a little faster."You look like shit, what happened?"

"Hun?"Steve snaps his eyes away from the teenagers chest and the odd blue light, looking up to meet the coffee brown eyes that stare at Steve, waiting for an answer."Oh, um, got into a fight."He shrugs his shoulders, his voice a little uneasy."I'm Steve."

"Tony,"Tony smiles just a little, not looking bothered or alerted about the blue light in his chest. If he is being honest, Tony sometimes forgets about his new addition and carries on as if it wasn't there to start off with. It wasn't as if Tony was on bed rest, he was actually encouraged to get out of bed and take walks down the corridor and back, but of course, standing on a chair to fix a television was a little too extreme for his condition.

Steve doesn't say anything further, trying his best not to look down at Tony's chest but finding that he's unable too. He's too drawn to the glow, out of curiosity of why it is there and what it does to keep Tony healthy and alive. Although, he doesn't want to be a bother to ask Incase he causes Tony to panic about it.

"Hey, you alr-"Tony pauses, following Steves wondering eye and realising that he is looking at the covered up Arc Reactor." _Oh_. You want to know what this is?"

"I have to go,"Steve blurts, already making his way back into the hallway, having to force himself to look away from Tony's chest. Tony frowns."Sorry, I have to go. Now."Steve doesn't even stay to say goodbye, already making his way down the hallway and further away from Tony's hospital room, hoping that Natasha is waiting in the carpark.

Tony blinks, his eyes trained on the spot where Steve was once standing. His right hand curls around the top of his tank top, knuckles brushing against his arc reactor which causes him to cringe, the reason why Steve had left. Tony shakes his head, blinking again before turning back to the television that he was fiddling with, almost as if the last 10 minutes didn't happen.


	5. Chapter Three

Safe to say, Natasha doesn't have the best of cars in the world, but then again, it's the only car that anybody has for transport so it's good enough to get about in, just not good enough to do any drag races against the shit heads in the upper posh school on the otherside of town. The Mortal enemies of BHHS. Nobody really knows how the mortal rivalry between the schools started, but it was material and flaming.

Natasha's car is a beat down, dark green Ford Focus, missing it's original passenger side door after a quick get away ended with the door being broken off by a lamppost - totally Clints fault - and now replaced with a black door from a similar Ford Focus. It's car that takes half an hour to start up and 2 hours to heat up during the coldness of Brooklyn weather, but a car that holds way too many memories and one that no one could bear let go.

Peggy - as Christened by the group whenever Thor had pulled the car out of a scrap yard - skids into the ambulance unloading section at A&E, with the windows rolled down manually and some Bon Jovi tape in the player. The car gets out an u heathy rattle and wheel as it slows to a stop. Steve doesn't expect anything else from Natasha, the girl makes her own rules as he goes and that's why Steve lobes about her.

Steve doesn't waste any time getting into the car, Natasha already driving off the moment the car door is shut so that she doesn't get fined nor does the car decide to die on her. Lucky enough, the car does indeed have seat belts which makes the car that 1% safe to be legally driven on the road.

"You look terrible,what happened this time?"Natasha breaks the silence, watching as Steve struggles to pull the seatbelt over his body with his good arm. The player is turned down to a reasonable volume to allow herself to be heard.

The wind blows her red hair back onto the seats head rest as they drive down the streets, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a jacket that she borrowed off of Bucky not that long ago and then never returned. Without any effort, and Steve has to admit that she is beautiful and can see why people say she's the most beautiful in all of their school.

"Some teens were beating up a homeless man, I stepped in and sorted it out."He shrugs his shoulders, slumping into the dusty leather material of his seat. He ends up listing off all of injures in monotone, knowing that he will have to repeat everything he has said to everybody else that asks.

"You do know you're a teenager yourself, right? No need to talk as if you're 70."Natasha laughs halfheartedly, giving her friend a side glance as she drives. Steve always had a habit of acting older than what he was, and it wasn't in that bad way where a 13 year old girl acts as if she's 21 simply by putting on make up and dressing like a skank, but in a way that Steve refers to things as if he was older.

"Yeah, I know, but teenagers are so ill-mannered and basic. You find one person that likes punk rock and then there's like a thousand more and they all claim to be a certains bands number one fan."

"Oh chill, Steve. It's not as if you're the only fan of Bon Jovi."

"I'm not even a fan, you're the fan. I'm just an innocent victim that is roped into listening to whatever you want to because it's you're car and you're the one driving."

"And don't you forget it, you try and change the tape and I'll crash this car into a tree."

"It would make an improvement,"

"Hey! Peggy is a healthy girl and there's hundreds of mileage left on her, she's going to be around for a long time."Natasha and everybody else hopes, seeing as Peggy is this only means of transportation for late night McDonalds or when coming back from a party. They all pitch in to pay for gas and repairs and despite all the money they would try and scrap together they wouldn't be able to afford a new car.

Steves neighbourhood is on the line between where the sun doesn't touch the ground and one that uses diamonds at cupcake toppings. It was one he has grew up in, the game house on the same street in the same bedroom with the same neighbours, one where everyone knew everyones business and the kids will grow up with one another until adult hood because no one ever seems to move. It's an atmosphere that Steve has witnessed lacks in other neighbours across the US. It's what Steve likes about his neighbour hood.

Getting out of the car, Steve thanks Natasha for picking him up and dropping him off, Natasha driving away with a beep of her horn. Steve finally turns to walk up the drive whenever Natasha safely leaves the street, fishing his keys out of his pocket and stepping into the house. The house is freezing, Steve giving a tight shiver as he enters and locks the door behind him, kicking off his trainers.

New York has always been cold, and winter weather is the worse. There's snow gracing the pavements and drive ways, on the roofs of houses and cars. Steve is use to the weather, but unfortunately so, the house is even colder than the weather outside with the heating busted and Sarah Rogers hasn't come round to phoning for someone to come and fix it.

Steve manages to strip out of his blood soaked clothing and into fresh and warmer clothing, throwing his clothes into the hamper and staggering his way tiredly to his bed. It's late now, just after 8 in the evening and although there's a dull ache for food rumbling in Steves stomach, by the time he wakes up he'll make some food. For now, sleep is enough.

It doesn't really surprise Steve whenever he finds Bucky already in his bed, curled up on his side and texting on his phone. It wasn't as if Bucky didn't have a key to the Rogers household, because he did, and it was for emergencies which were often ones like 'we've ran out of Doritos for our salsa dip' or 'Thor locked me out of Netflix again so I'm going to use yours' which Steve didn't mind.

"Your mum is so pissed off,"Bucky mumbles, not even looking up at Steve. He's curled under the sheets and has been since 3 in the afternoon, only moving to pee or to raid the Rogers fridge. Bucky is a handsome teen, with longing black hair that Steve almost begs for his best friend to cut and amazing steel blue eyes that seem to have every shade of blue and grey that is possible. At over 6 feet tall, Bucky is both someone to fear but yet the biggest softy with a passion for baking.

"How do you know?"Steve asks, already climbing into the double bed and scooting closer to his best friends warmth with a yawn. He doesn't question what Bucky is doing here this time, he has learned long ago to not question what Bucky does and to just go with the flow.

"Your ma' is texting mine and she's texting me, you've ruined the Christmas photo that she was gonna send to your gran."He informs. He finally locks his phone, prompting himself up on one elbow to look at the damage to Steve."Well, you do look like shit."

"Aw shucks, just when I thought you were going to compliment me."Steve rolls his eyes, leaning back into the pillows gently so not to hurt. The painkillers were starting to ware off, the pain in his ribs being too much for Steve to handle.

"Stevie, I've been your friend since you were in diapers and not once have I complimented you."Bucky can't help but to laugh.

"Always time for changes."

"Not today."Bucky shakes his head, resting his head back onto the pillow with a sigh. Steve closes his eyes, just wanting to sleep away the headache that is slowly starting to form and the pain in his rids and around his face. He doesn't regret being a good guy, but it doesn't alway have its perks when you're lying on your bed in pain.

He was kind of glad that now it's the Holidays and that he has 2 weeks to sleep and eat as much junk food as his stomach can desire. Although, of course, there's this essay he needs t write which he can do before going into the school but for now, he has time to sleep and eat and hang out with his dumbass friends.

There's a silence that passes between the two friends, one that Steve knows is due to Bucky falling asleep beside him, evident from the soft snores that leaves his friend and the way the teen as shuffled closer so they can share body heat. It gives Steve to think, mostly about Christmas which is normally a big affair between the group of friends and one that Steve normally finds himself spending with the Barnes due to his mum taking the Christmas shift.

His stomach twists in guilt whenever he thinks back to Tony, the teenager he had ran out on only because Steve was kind of disturbed by the blue ord that the tee anger sported in his chest. Steve didn't even stay long enough to see if his words and actions affected Tony, to see if the teenager was okay because it was clear that he wasn't, from the way he seemed upset whenever Steve was caught staring.

Steve wonders what Tony will be doing this Christmas, would he be spending it with his family and friends? Would he spending it alone in a hospital room stuck to a heart monitor? The scars that surrounded Tony's arms were self inflicted, Steve isn't an idiot and the way there was no evidence of any family or belongings in the hospital room made it clear that Tony has been alone all this time.

"Hey, Buck."

"Steve, fuck off. I'm _trying_ to sleep."

"How much is a cheeseburger?"

"2 dollars, 4 if you're going to get me one."


	6. Chapter Four

Sleep is something that Tony has never been ab,s to get the hang of, of course it wasn't as if he was an insomniac or had nightmares that made it unbearable for him to sleep, he just couldn't sleep and it has always been a problem. Ever since childhood, his set bedtime never meant a thing to Tony, being tucked into bed at a reasonable time would only resort to Tony awaking not even 3 hours later, wondering the halls for some sort of entertainment.

Now, as a teenager and haven enrolled into a prestigious university of his choice at only 15, his sleeping pattern was even more messed up than usual. Tony could go ahead and blame it on his professors, but then again he didn't turn up to half of the lectures that he was signed up for and just turned in a piece of coursework and revived the best grade possible. He could go ahead and blame it on the frat boys that keep inviting him to parties every night of the week, but there again, Tony was never one to back down on an invitation.

Tony has to admit that his lack of sleep is something that is his own fault, because even at a young age Tony was always up to no good during the A.M or determined to finish a Lego sky-scraper for him to show Jarvis and Anna. Now, as a teenager he didn't sleep because he was distracted, and having that touch of ADD didn't really help when all you wanted to do was be cooped up in a lab and be blasting AC/DC until whatever he was working on is completed and to Tony's standard.

He's a perfectionist, sue him.

Being at the the hospital, the only time he does sleep is when that damn blonde nurse comes in to give him his pain relief medication - and Tony swears that she gives him Roofies in his night time water - which makes him loose consciousness not even 5 minutes later.

"Someone come and fix the television?"Tony's favourite nurse asks, raising her eyebrow at a chilled back Tony who wasn't even paying attention to whatever movie that was playing on the hospital television, and instead looking through some type of blueprints. Tony fixes the glasses on his nose that were gradually falling, looking over at the nurse.

"As if I'd allow some community college bloke come and fix a television that I can do in less time that them."Tony rolls his brown eyes, eyeing the television before shaking his head and looking back down at his blueprints.

"And where did you get a screwdriver from?"She raises her eyebrow in amusement, walking further into the room with a tray of food and Tony's pain relief and heart medication. Tony is by far the most taboo paicent that Sarah has ever came across in her years of being a nurse, he seemed unfazed with the arc reactor that was built into his chest, acting like a big carpet trapped in a trap.

"Stole it from maintenance."He shrugs his shoulders, stroking his thumb over the blueprints that he's looking at. It's the outline sketch for a new robot, DUMM-E is getting bored all on his own and deserves a friend to get along with and also help out Tony in the lab. Tony leaves out the part where he actually paid some nurse to get it for him and bring it back, Sarah doesn't need to know that.

"You're going to get me in trouble,"She shakes her head, setting the tray down onto a table that will come up over the bed for Tony.

"I won't let that happen, they lay a finger on you and I'll sort them out."Tony declares, whining just a little whenever Sarah slips the blue prints out of his hands to set them on his hospital bedside table.

"That's cute, dear, but I'm sure I'll be fine."Sarah is unable to help the smile that breaks out on her face at the protectiveness in Tony's voice. Coming to tend to Tony is probably the highlight of Sarah's day, and he's only been - conscious - at the hospital for a week and already Sarah has a soft spot for the teenager."Are these your plans?"

"Yeah, for Butterfingers- Oh! Sarah, Jarvis came up to visit today and brought up some photos to put by my bed, can you get them from the backpack for me please? There should be a Photograph of DUMM-E in there, I want you to see my 'bot."He sounds so thrilled as he speaks, smiling widely at Sarah as he points towards the backpack in the far left corner in a childish manner.

Sarah is by far the best nurse in the hospital, and most likely the only one that doesn't either hate Tony's guts for being an attention seeking whore or love the teenager just because he has enough money to be showering in it. She's a pretty, smart and independent woman who dotes over Tony, treats him like a son and listens to everything that he tells her with the same amount of enthusiasm and excitement as Tony.

Tony doesn't trust alot of men, it shows a lot whenever he refuses to take his medication or eat any food brought up by a male nurse. He barely listens to Doctor Yinsen whenever he comes up to check on Tony, because as much as he's a doctor and Tony knows he should be able to trust him, he can't find it in himself to do so. But he trusts Sarah, Tony knows that Sarah just wants him to get better.

Sarah reaches for the backpack, coming back over to sit in the vacant seat next to Tony's bed, setting the backpack on Tony's lap as the teenager munches on a piece of celery. As much as he hates vegetables, Tony knows that Sarah won't leave until he's ate food. Unzipping the bag, Tony pulls out a couple of photo frames.

"This is me, of course it's me nobody else could ha a handsome face like this,"Tony smirks, gracing a hand under his chin and grinning at Sarah who just laughs."And this is my best friend Rhodey just this summer, we went to London for a week to see some sighs and it was honestly the best holiday I've ever had."He gushes.

Sarah looks over at the Dark skinned boy shown in the photograph. He was obviously older and taller than Tony, but his smile was genuine as he has his arm draped around Tony's shoulder and grinning at the camera.

"This is me and DUMM-E, my 'bot who I keep talking about."Tony looks proud as he smiles down at the next photo, already handing off the previous photo frame to Sarah so she can put it by his bedside."I built him a couple of years ago, he's a menace but I love him. The fucking board won't allow me to have him in my room."He curses."Saying that he'll wreck everything, but he won't."

DUMM-E was lucky enough still back at MIT when the explosion happened, seeing as Tony was more or less at MIT for most of the year the 'bot stayed there unless it was the summer holidays. As much as the 'bot wrecks everything and makes Tony's life hell at times, he wouldn't know what to do without his favourite 'bot.

"Impressive,"Sarah smiles, looking at the Bot beside a younger looking Tony.

"And this is Jarvis, Anna, Aunt Peggy and I."Tony smiles a sad smile, his thumb rubbing over the glass that covers the old photograph. Tony couldn't have been more than 4 when the photo was taken, sitting on the kitchen counter with his Aunt Peggy Holding his hips behind him and Jarvis and Anna to the left of her. It was his only photograph of all of his favourite people with him."I'm pretty young but you know it's me, and Jarvis looks the same."

"Do you have a photo of your parents?"The muses asks out of curiosity, noticing the way that Tony's body tenses up at the mention of his parents and shakes his head. Tony didn't have a lot of visitors, and it was no surprise to him that Howard and Maria didn't make an appearance to see how their only son was doing. Tony wouldn't be surprised if they were in the Caribbean right now, it would explain a lot seeing as Jarvis was allowed to come and visit.

"No, Howard and Maria don't spend a lot of time at home, nor do they like photographs taken of them unless it's for publicity purposes."Tony grumbles, glaring at the wall in front of him. His hand finds it way to the hem of his t-shirt in a sort of comfort, his fingers accidentally gracing against the metal rim of the arc reactor that makes him cringe and extract his hand quickly.

"Tony, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just...tired."He lies, not looking at Sarah as he quickly takes his pain and heart medication without any hassle."I'm going to go to sleep now, thank you Sarah."

"Tony..."

"Goodnight, Sarah."Tony turns onto his side so that his back is facing the nurse as he pulls the hospital sheets up his body and squeezes his eyes close, body tensing. Tony waits until he can hear Sarah get up and leave, shutting off the hospital room lights until he allows himself to breath again, opening his eyes to see the glow of the arc reactor light up the room.  



	7. Chapter Five

Steve has never been more thankful for the Burger King that was situated directly in front of the hospital that his mum works in, because as much as Steve dislikes burgers - and fries, and anything that is deep-fat-fried-in-heart-attack-oil - having the Burger King there made it a lot easier for him to take it across to the hospital for Tony, as somewhat of a peace offering to the young teen.

He has bought two cheeseburgers, and fries, and two milkshakes and even if Steve doesn't like burgers or fries from fast food industries, he would eat them so that Tony didn't eat alone or Tony could just have them both, he didn't care. Anyway, Steve likes milkshakes and he hopes that Tony likes milkshakes, and he really hopes that he isn't lactose intolerant because that would really make things shit.

Also, Bucky lied. Cheese burgers cost way more than 2 dollars, and the extra fries and milkshakes rounded the cost to 15 dollars - including his bus fair. Steve was just glad that he had that extra cash that Reta gave him last week after doing her shopping, and the spare change from all the Christmas gifts he had bought for the gang. It would be worth it though, Tony looked sad and he didn't want anyone to be during this Christmas period.

Steve hides the fatty food In his backpack, hoping that the insulation with hopefully stop the food from getting cold as he starts to walk towards the hospital after exiting Burger King. He places the milkshakes carefully in his bag, hoping not to jostle too much. He has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his old jacket, a ridiculous - but made with love - knitted beanie on his head with a matching scarf around his neck, both bright with a rainbow of colours.

"Steve. What are you doing here?"Sarah asks in a rushed tone whenever she spots her son stalking down the hallways, peering into random private rooms as subtle as someone who is over 6 feet tall can. She's rushing to get to the otherside of the hospital, with notes clutched in her hand that are crucially needed.

"Um, I'm looking for someone."Steve admits, watching how his mom walks by him with a raised eyebrow, almost walking backwards so that she can still speak to her son."I'm visiting someone."

"A friend? Is everyone okay? James? Clint?"She asks worriedly, stopping for a second just to show her worry for her sons friends. Both James and Clint were already getting into somesort of trouble, ending up just as bashed and bruised as her son who looks a bit better than what he did two days ago. The bruising around his face was fading and the stitches slowly but surely healing, the only thing was his broken nose that would heal soon enough.

"Everyone is fine Mom. Go back to work."He basically shoos her away with a gentle and reassuring smile. She nods, already turning so she can start rushing down the hallway once again, allowing Steve to breath a little easier. It didn't take a genius to know where Steve got his kindness and good nature from, it was knitted into Steve.

Steve lets out another breath, deciding to keep looking for Tony's hospital room. He kind of wishes that he knew his last name, it would make things so much easier and maybe then he could ask one of the nurses what number Tony's room is, but then again maybe they wouldn't give it to Steve because he isn't family nor a friend, they're strangers, kind of, they talked that one time so maybe they're now acquittances.

Cautiously - mostly because he doesn't want to be spotted by a doctor or nurse that could escort him out of the building - Steve is peering into one of the private rooms on the floor that his Mum is stationed on. It's in a ward where it is mostly occupied with patients that have been in serious accidents that have landed with in comas, or have severely damaged an individual.

It makes Steve frown because was Tony in this ward because of whatever that blue glow in his chest is? He wonders how that happened, and what the blue orb is exactly - because Steve might go to a public school but he's sure that it's not just a random ass magical blue orb in Tony's chest - and how it functions in Tony's every day life.

Spotting the familiar soft dark hair, Steve has to bite back a smile of success as he raps his knuckles against the wood of the hospital, peering through the mesh like window as Tony looks up in confusion from whatever the hell he is obviously fiddling with. Steve wants to let out a coo, Tony's hair is sticking out in odd angles and his coffee brown eyes are wide in confusion as he looks at the door, nose scrunched up whenever he notices it's Steve.

"Come in,"He calls, giving Steve a motion to come in before going back to what he's fiddling in. Steve opens the door with a smile, shutting the door with the heel of his foot as he looks over at Tony. The teenager is sitting crosslegged on his hospital bed, a  - universal - screwdriver in his hand and tongue darted between his lips as he fiddles with what Steve can identify as Tony's heart monitor.

"What the fuck are you doing?"Steve asks in panic, his eyes widening as he watches Tony pull at wires and fiddle with screwdrivers. The heart monitor is there for a reason, still connected to Tony but deemed useless now as it lays on the bed in front of Tony, dismantled into pieces. He's taking off his hat and scarf, shaking it from snow.

"Fiddling,"Tony replies, licking his lips as he works."It kept making this annoying beeping sound which was driving me up the fucking walls."Tony mutters, wiping the back of his left hand over his eyes to wipe away some tiredness that was making his eyes droop, but he wasn't going to give in to sleep.

Unlucky enough, he didn't sleep as long as he hoped he would last night, waking up sometime between 1 in the morning and 2 and started to fiddle with every bit of equipment in his hospital room, including touching up the television so that it broadcasted British television and to the heart monitor so that it would just shut the fuck up.

"It's supposed to make that sound, Y'know."Steve can't help but to laugh, the concern still relevant in his voice but laced with a sort of fondness that seems to wipe right over Tony's head. The teenager blindly reaches out for this glasses that rest on the hospital side table. Steve rushes to grab them to aid Tony, handing them to the teenager who thanks him silently with a nod."The beeping is to tell people that your heart is still beating and that you're _alive_."

"Yes I know that, Captain Obvious."Tony rolls his eyes the minute that his glasses are perched on his nose."But I'm telling you that it was annoying as fucking hell, especially when it's the only thing you hear for 8 days straight, 24 hours a day. So I'm changing it."

"Changing it? To what?"Steve asks curiously because he had no idea you were able to change the sound that came off of a heart monitor, actually, he's pretty sure you're _unable_ to change the sound.

"I don't know yet."Tony mumbles, scrunching up his eyebrows as he focuses on all of the bits and bobs in front of him. Sarah will have a heart attack if she sees that Tony has dismantled the one thing that is telling them Tony's heart beat is regular and not missing any beats, but Tony is making sure that he does this as quick as possible so that Sarah doesn't find out, well she will eventually but not right now.

"This is damaging hospital property-"

"What is your purpose being here?"Tony finally looks up, with a raised eyebrow and his lips pursed into a straight line."Is your sole purpose in life to tell me that I can't do this or that I can't do that? Because honestly, honey, If you're supposed to be some goddamn guardian Angel you're doing a hell of a shit job."

"I-"Steve pauses, looking at Tony whose face is scrunched up in some sort of sourness, mixed with an emotion that the teenager is trying his hardest to mask, but damn these fûcking medication, making his moods all loopy."I came to apologise, to introduce myself all over again."

"You came to apologise..."Tony's voice trails off, eyeing Steve who offers Tony a kind smile, one that could not be forced or fake. There's just something in Steves voice that makes Tony want to trust him, to believe him that Steve came back to apologise because never has anyone ever come back to apologise to Tony for doing something. Tony is always the one to apologise, because he's always the one in trouble.

"I did,"Steve says."C-can I sit down?"He asks hesitantly, motioning towards the chair that is sitting beside Tony's bed, covered in pieces of blue paper. Tony nods his head with a little sound, watching behind the glass of his glasses as Steve gently picks up the blue prints, neatly shuffles them before setting them on the table in front of Tony's photo frames.

Steve can't help but to notice the fact that Tony wasn't wearing a tank top like he was last time that he saw him, but now instead wore what looked like an extra thick hoodie which unfortunately so, still made it possible for the blue light to seek through. Tony catches onto Steves lingering stare, suddenly feeling self-conscious to the Arc reactor as he curls over himself and angles himself away from Steve.

"No, shit, I didn't mean to stare, I'm sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable? I-I've just never seen anything like that before and it's really fascinating a-and different, but in a good way, I hope because maybe it's not a good thing for it to be glowing-"

Steve panics, the words just tumbling out of his mouth as he speaks, trying his best to not look at Tony because for fuck sake, he came all of the way here to apologise to Tony for freaking out due to the blue orb and now he's back, in the Same place freaking out about the blue orb and still with no apology.

"Dude, it's fine. It's fine."Tony reassures, his voice softening as he speaks but not meeting Steves eye."If it stops glowing, it means it stops working, if it stops working, the magnet won't stable the shrapnel that is aiming for my heart meaning that I'll die a very slow but painful death."Tony says as if it's the most simplest of things to spill from his mouth.

"Y-you'd die?"

"Yeah,"Tony shrugs his shoulders, screwing a screw back into place with his screwdriver."But that's unlikely to happen, it's more likely I'll die from untreated infection around the arc reactor than anything else, I mean I have a fucking hole in my chest, of course I'm going to get infected."

"That's...a lot to take in."Steve mutters, shocked by how monotone Tony is about the Arc Reactor - as Steve now knows it as - in his chest, practically keeping him alive and preventing shrapnel - from a fucking bomb? What the hell as his kid been up to? - from piercing his fucking heart."I was to introduce myself again. I'm Steve Rogers."

Tony is almost startled whenever he looks up to realise that Steve has extended his arm forward for Tony to shake his hand. He eyes Steves hand cautiously, looking for any threats before he musters up the courage to let his hand - which looks so small in comparison to Steves - Steves hand."Tony Stark."

"That's a beautiful name,"Steve admits, blushing whenever he realises what he just let slip. He sees the way that Tony admittedly starts to blush, turning his gaze away from the wonderful blue eyes as he smirks just a little.

"I know,"Tony replies coyly, indicating a laugh from Steve which is music to Tony's ears. Steves hand is so warm compared to Tonys, so soft but strong and so fucking huge. His hands were nothing like Tony's, whose hands were covered in little scars from years of fiddling with tools, small and always so damn cold. Tony is always so cold.

"Wait!"Steve remembers loudly, making Tony jump and for Steves hand to slip from his own, a frown appearing on Tony's face but wiping away quickly whenever he realises what he's doing. It goes unnoticed by Steve who is making quick work to gently take his backpack off his back and unzip it."I brought you a cheeseburger."

"Y-you what?"

"A cheeseburger, as a peace offering or whatever. You wanted one two days ago, and I know that was two days ago and maybe I should've came back sooner, but I still brought you one."Steve smiles, pulling the Burger King wrapped burger out of his backpack, along with the other and some fries.

"You actually got me a cheeseburger?"Tony says in shock, his brown eyes wide as he's handed the wrapped up burger."Steve, you didn't need to, I-"

"But I wanted to,"Steve smiles, looking over at Tony who stares in shock. Nobody has willingly bought Tony something in ages - other than Jarvis at his birthday, and Rhodey when it comes to pizza -, nevermind someone like Steve who is practically a stranger to Tony. He feels all warm.

"Thank you,"Tony smiles finally, a smile that is so little and Steve would have missed it if it wasn't for the fact that he was _staring_ at Tony. He watches as Tony peels away the wrapper before making a happy found, taking a bite of the Cheeseburger with a delightful moan that really fûcking shouldn't make Steve squirm and look away.

"Fuck,"Steve curses whenever he reaches further into the backpack, grimacing whenever his fingers land in the coldness of the milkshakes that has now been spilt all over the bottom of his backpack, making it unbearably soggy and disgusting.

"What's wrong?"Tony says over a mouthful of food, looking over at Steve with wide eyes. He has his cheeseburger in one hand and a screw driver in the other, starting to close up the heart monitor.

"The milkshakes spilt all over my bag."Steve grimaces, pulling out his hand and shamelessly wiping his hand over the front of his backpack.

"Ew,"Tony scrunches up his nose, watching Steves actions."Take my backpack, it's over there."

"Tony, I can't just take your backpack."

"You're not taking it, I'm giving it to you."He rolls his eyes, motioning towards the backpack with his screwdriver hand."Go, take it. Throw that one away and take mine."He leaves no room for arguing, almost pouting at Steve to listen to him and waiting for him to get up. Steve groans as he gets up, once again the painkillers wearing off as he gets off of the chair. There's a bin the room which Steve opens with his foot, throwing the ruined backpack in.

"This one?"Steve asks just to make sure, trying his best not to bend to pick up the backpack and not extending his arms down.

"Yeah."Tony nods,"Just dump whatever inside onto the table."He instructs, already turning back to finish up the heart monitor, screwing down the back of it. Steve follows the instructions, dumping the clothes that was inside of it onto the table and not being able to help the grin whenever a pair of Tony's coffee themed boxers fall out,

Tony finishes with the heart monitor, turning it over so that the front is now facing up and Toby can fiddle for it to turn back on again. The screen lights up with green, and inside of that damn blasted beeping sound, a soft chime echos through the room with every beat of Tony's heart.

"That's better,"


	8. Chapter Six

There's a silence in the room that follows soon after Tony has announced the finished product that is the heart monitor, the only sound that carries throughout the room being the soft chime of a bell at every beat of Tony's heart. There's a proud smile that casts over Tony's face, cheeks full of grease and meat as he looks down at his finished product in proudness that he was able to fiddle around well enough to create a sound that didn't give him a migraine.

Steve looks on in amazement, holding the backpack in his hands as he stares between the heart monitor that continues to lay on the bed in front of Tony and Tony, the teenager who isn't even aware of Steves amazed eye and continues to eat his Burger. He wasn't even aware that a heart monitors sound could be alerted, or maybe it can't and that's the amazement that Tony is able to form.

"You did that?"Steve finds himself asking before he's able to stop himself, and for fuck sake, what a stupid question because of course he did! Steve has been watching him fiddle with the monitor. Tony looks up with a start as if he had forgotten that Steve was still in the room, pushing his glasses back up his nose with the back of his hand, smearing grease from his cheeseburger over his forehead as he does so.

"Well I don't see any other electrical engineering students around here, do you?"Tony raises an eyebrow, bringing his cheeseburger back up to his mouth and taking another bite, once again letting out a delightful moan at the wonderful taste that attacks his tastebuds. Whatever the medical staff in this hospital were trying to feed him was not food, Tony knows his food and food does not have fur.

"I-Uh, I just mean that's really, um, impressive."Steve blurts.

"Thanks..."Tony's voice trails off, looking at Steve skeptically as if he was waiting for the backlash that was yet to come. Nobody ever commented Tony's work, even his professors just _expected_ for his work to be the best of the best and yes okay, Tony lives up to that role but it doesn't mean he doesn't like to hear a 'Well Done' or 'That's impressive' every once in a while.

But then again, he can say that he's use to it, it would explain why he always gets this bubbling, unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach every time that Rhodey says thank you for buying the pizza that week, or when Steve tells him that his work is impressive. He doesn't get that at home, he never has. Since the moment he was able to toddle and babble, Howard has been expecting great things, and in some ways he has achieved a son that has all the brains and good looks, but is still a fuck up in the eyes of a father.

"I'm not joking!"Steve says a little too urgently, noticing the way that Tony's voice flatters in unsureness. Tony flinches at the loud voice, finding himself reeled back to reality."That's really fucking impressive, I mean, like _wow_. That most I can do is fiddle with a television whenever the screen gets all scrambled, and even at that I have to get Bruce or something to fix it for me. I'm terrible at technology but you- you have a gift."

"Um, Thank you."Tony manages a smile, ducking his head to hide the blush that coats his cheeks and instead taps his fingers on the heart monitor."That's the first anyone has ever said that to me...and meant it. I mean apart from Rhodey, but he rarely sees anything I work on so that's a rare occasion. So thank you, really."

"D-Do you need me to help put that back?"Steve asks, setting the backpack down onto the bottom of Tony's bed.

"Would you? These drugs are making me weak and sleepy as fuck, I can barely keep my eyes open nevermind lift this back."Tony sighs sleepily, falling back onto the pillows with a heavy grunt. The pillows were obviously from home, soft to lay on and silk in touch.

"Of course. What type of friend would I be if I didn't help you out?"

"Friend?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'd count you as my friend unless you think that's weird or something because we've met once, two times? I don't know, can I count a person as a friend after two encounters? Well yeah, I can, if that's okay with you. Just because you're my friend doesn't mean I have to be yours, does that make sense? I think it does."

"Steve!"Tony near enough lets out a giggle, covering it with a sort of snuffle of a snort instead, taking another bite of his disappearing cheeseburger. He talks with his mouth full,"Stop panicking, I-I'd like to be your friend, I would really."

"But?"Steve prompts, hearing the but that hangs in the air. Steve is gently lifting the heart monitor from the bed, making sure not to tug at the wires that have been slipped under the thick hoodie and under the bandages that still bind Tony's chest so that the teenagers scars can heal and not get infected."Sorry,"Steve winces whenever he accidentally tugs at a wire while situation the monitor back on the stand.

"You don't want me as a friend,"Tony swallows his chewed up food, and scrunching up the plastic that was once covering up a cheeseburger that Tony has now ate. He makes an aim for the closed bin, groaning and slumping against the pillows whenever he misses by a mile off."I'm a flight risk, a fuck up."

"You obviously have friends,"

"I have _a_ friend,"Tony corrects, pointedly looking at Steve who stares back a hum."Two if I count you. I have people that tolerate me, want to get to know me because of my looks, for my body for my... _Intelligence_. Rhodey is a friend by default, my best friend, he got stuck with me for a roommate and let me tell you, it's no walk in the park."

It wasn't a lie, Tony is Intelligent, a Prodigy at that, and there were many people out for his intelligence, to kidnap and use the brains inside of his pretty little head for weapons, for machines and technology ahead of their time. But it wasn't _the_ main reason why people wanted to get close to Tony Stark, his good looks and boy could only get him so far when it came to the older generation or the newer, Money is what they want, and Money is what Tony has.

Money was able to buy Tony out of a lot of speeding tickets and it kept the media quiet on numerous occasions when the young Stark was caught up in bed with A man twice his age, or caught in a college bar bathroom with some senior doing cocaine off of his ass. People wanted him for his brains, his body and the money and for once - second actually because Rhodey just wanted Tony _as_ Tony - he wanted someone to like him for being himself.

He doesn't want Steve to know of his wealth, to feel intimated or even intrigued.

"Tony,"Steve almost smiles sadly, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on Tony's hand. Tony's very faint flinch doesn't go unnoticed by Steve, the teenager retracting his hand slowly away."Tony, friends come in all shapes and sizes, problems and without. I don't care of anything other than you being you."

"You really have to stop with the snappiness, Rogers."Tony lets out a laugh, stretching his limbs and letting out a groan whenever he feels a couple of his bones crack and his muscles stretch."But if I have to have another friend, I'm glad that you are them."He smiles, once that was small but genuine and made Steve smile Back.

"Do you want my cheeseburger?"Steve asks once he's seated in the seat beside Tony's bed again, he watches as Tony takes off his glasses and scrubs at his eyes tiredly before putting them back on his nose again.

"What I'd really like is a coffee, I haven't had a coffee since I don't know, maybe 3 weeks ago? It's over 2 weeks, I was out for a week, been awake for 8."Tony talks to himself, signing dramatically."That's the longest I've ever went without coffee."

"I can get you some if you want? From the canteen, or one of the machines?"

"Would you?"Tony gasps, sitting up urgently which tugs at the wires of his heart monitor and the IV drip in his hand. The screw driver - and the extra screws that Tony had taken out of the monitor and then had no idea where to put it - laying on the blanket beside Tony.

"Yeah,"Steve shrugs with a kind smile."I'll be right back."Steve makes a move to getup, self-consciously fishing into the pocket of his jeans for the spare change he had collected from Burger King and pocket money. Yeah, there should be enough, hopefully.

"Wait,"Tony says urgently, noticing the slight frown on Steves lips whenever the blonde looks down at the change in his hand, leaning over to open the draw of the beside table, Tony fishes out his own wallet and takes out the dollar bills within it. Jarvis had brought it up for him on his last visit, just incase.

"Tony-"

"Take it, please. You bought me a cheeseburger, and holy fucking shit that was a great cheeseburger and I thank you gratefully for it, so it's my turn to buy you coffee, or tea, or anything you want. Actually Y'know what? Take my wallet, buy a car."Tony panics, motioning for Steve to take the entire leather wallet out of his hands.

"Tony, you don't need to do _anything_ for me. I bought you that cheeseburger because I felt like shit for running out on you after...Y'know that."Steve waves his hand at Tony's chest, making the dark haired teenager look down at his chest and frown a little."You don't need to buy me anything."

"Steve, if I don't buy you something I'm going to be in our debt."

"Then you can repay me with something else, not with money."Steve huffs stubbornly, watching how Tony scrunches up his nose in utter confusion as to what else he could repay Steve in. Steve takes that as his moment to leave the room,"I'll be back in a mo'."

"Dork,"Tony rolls his eyes, unable to help the feeling of fondness that suddenly rushes through his chest or the odd blush that he can feel heating his cheeks. Tony bites his bottom lip, shaking his head to rid himself of the unfamiliar feeling that has seemed to take over his mind and chest, moving to focus his attention on throwing his wallet back into the drawer and closing it.

Steve didn't want his money, he actually argued with Tony _not_ to give him money. That's a first, because as much as Rhodey doesn't want Tony's money, Honey-bear is more than grateful whenever Tony buys the drinks for the night or stalks up the cupboards in their shared dorm.

"I wasn't sure what coffee you liked, so I got a normal coffee and a black coffee? I wasn't sure, there were no other options or I would've gotten you a latte or a capatino or a mocha. I have sugar and milk pods as well,"Steve informs whenever he enters the room again, shutting the door with the heel of his foot with his hands full.

"Which do you like?"Tony asks.

"It doesn't matter, I'll take whatever."Steve reassures, setting the two foam cups onto the table at the end of Tony's hospital bed. It was able to roll on wheels, to be moved to rest over Tony's bed. Steve is pulling our sugar sachets and milk pods out of the pockets of his hoodie, setting them on the table as he moves the table so it was over Tony's bed but in a way that didn't effect what way he was sitting and still allowed Steve to reach.

"Black, two sugars."Tony speaks as he does, pulling the foam cup forward and picking up two sugar sachets. Steve nods, taking the other and adding another pod of milk into it as well as some sugar."If any of the nursing staff ask, you didn't get me any of this, alright? They'll have you head and my ass on a plate."

"Are you not allowed any of this? Cheeseburgers and coffee?"Realisation kicks in the moment Tony shakes his head and laughs, pointing his free hand at his chest, not directly at his chest or the arc reactor.

"Heart condition,"Tony rolls his eyes, bringing the cup up to his nose and almost melting at the the heavenly scent of coffee that invades his senses. The foam cup his warm in his hands, warming up his body."I'm literally recovering from open heart surgery and having a super magnet fitted into my chest to save my life from being dying of shrapnel stabbing me in the heart. Of fucking course I'm not allowed cheeseburgers or coffee, not for the mean time anyway-"

"Tony!"

"What? Chill, Capsicle, I'm not going to die from a little grease and caffeine."Tony smirks, taking a sip from the dark coffee before Steve can protest anymore. He's melting into the pillows in relief, a blissful smile taking over the smirk as he feels the warmth slide down his throat and settle into his system. He's missed coffee so _fucking_ much.

"What if I've managed to mess up your heart even more so? Or put off your medication or recovery? Fuck, Tony, you're not allowed this stuff!"His face is pained in shock and guilt, watching how Tony could be so calm about all of this as he drinks his Coffee.

"I'm allowed it eventually,"He rolls his eyes again, scratching at one of his healing scars on his face, mid down his left cheek. It was stitched up and healing, just one of many that was covering his body both from the incident and from past accidents."Don't worry, I'm not going to die."Giving Steve his best smile, he watches as Steve finally sags into the chair.

"Capsicle? Where did that nickname come from?"

"I have a nickname for everyone,"Tony mutters, scrunching his nose."You remind me of a Captain, an old love of an Aunt of mine and a story I was use to be told as a child. You came in here chattering cold and covered in snow. I thought it fit well."

"I guess I was covered in snow,"Steve gives an odd shiver. He was never fond on the cold, he could stick it just like anybody else but he didn't like it. The cold gave him an odd feeling that set into his bones and one that Steve was unable to shake off.

"I haven't seen snow in so long,"Which was true, and it couldn't be blamed for Tony being in hospital. Winter break meant a winter vacation, one that Tony would try and opt out of but seemed to always fail to do so. The Starks have many homes across the world, in warm and cold locations. He would guess that's where his Mum and Howard are now, on their private island in the Caribbean.

"It's snowing quiet a bit, I hope there won't be a storm over Christmas."Steve voices, taking a sip of his coffee and staring over at the window, the curtains pulled closed in an attempt to plunge the room in darkness whenever the lights would switch off.

"Christmas?"Tony says in shock, looking at Steve."When is that?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Christmas?"And okay, he hasn't looked at a Callander or his mobile in an awful long time because he's been too caught up trying to improve his hospital room and not get caught doing so. Steve nods his head, eyebrows meeting in the middle."So that means it's Christmas Eve, why are you spending your Christmas Eve with me? Why aren't you with your family?"

"My mum is working,"Steve shrugs."And my own friends are late shopping, I guess."

"Oh,"Tony says."You'll be spending tomorrow with them, I assume?"

"Yeah, I normally spend it with my friend and his family. My mum will be working, but it's all good fun and she normally gets off in time for desert."Steve smiles sadly. He would love for his Christmas to be family filled, for him to spend the entire day with his mum but she has to work and Steve doesn't blame her for doing so."What about you? Will your parents come up and spend the day with you?"

"Uh, yeah."Tony lies, looking away from Steve. He doesn't want to admit that he doesn't celebrate Christmas, too many dark memories that he'd rather not remember or have them brought up. It didn't matter anyway, Tony spent the holidays on his own, locked away in his room with his gadgets.

"Big family?"

"No, not at all."Tony shakes his head, taking another gulp of coffee."Only child."

"Me too, but that didn't bother me much growing up."Steve shrugs."Bucky lives right next door, has since we were tots."

"That's nice,"Tony hums, looking at his hand which was attached to the IV drip."Would it be okay to have your number? So we can stay in contact during the Hollidays? It's okay if you don't what to remain in contact, I get that, I just thought, Y'know maybe you'd like to text or something."

"Of course!"Steve grins, setting his cup down and fishing his phone out of his pocket. A flip phone, but a phone at least. He didn't use it as often as one would use a phone, mainly just to text or phone because hey, that's what a phone is for, right?

"Write it on my hand."Tony orders halfheartedly, grabbing a pen from the table at the side. He doesn't want to take out his own mobile - one he made himself - and show Steve up with his in front of the times mobile phone. Steve nods, writing down his mobile number onto Tony's hand, making him grin."I look forward to texting you, Rogers."


	9. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay honestly; they don't exactly say how old any of Buckys sisters are, I know that they are all younger than he is, and there's only one official name (from the comics) which is Rebecca (which will be around age 11). I'm going to follow the R theme and have Rachel (at age 6) and Rose (age 3). 
> 
> Bucky, Tony, Steve etc are all 16 going on 17 or 17 (in Steves case ((it really depends when their birthday falls)). Rhodey is 19-20.

  1. "Steve! Come play with us!"Steve is slumped in one of the recliner chairs in the Barnes livingroom, nursing a full stomach and with an itching temptation to continuously check his mobile phone for a message from Tony. Christmas with the Barnes was always a pleasant but overly tired occasion, filled with joyous laugher, screaming children and childish bickering throughout the entire joyous day.



Yesterday had been a great day, for Steve standards anyway. It was different when he was hanging out with Tony, Tony is so easy to talk to despite the fact that he's a riddle wrapped inside a puzzle locked inside a safe. Steve had left nearing 8, the two of them watching some British television show called Downtown Abbey and bantering back and forth. It was enjoyable, sweet and Steve has found himself waiting for Tony's message all damn day.

Steve has been over since early this morning, not too early for the Barnes family to open their presents - since that's one thing Steve doesn't want to be apart of. It's a family tradition and no matter how long he has known the Barnes or how many times Mrs Barnes tells him he's family, he doesn't want to intrude - but early enough that he was there on time for breakfast. French Toast with Maple Syrup and cream.

He had been dragged to view various toys, make up sets, paint supplies, books from the minute breakfast had finished until the traditional Christmas Dinner was being served at 4 in the afternoon. He had been set in between Bucky and Rachel, with one ear being filled with absolute  garbage about how Barbie is way better than Bratz and the other the swear of how embarrassing the Barnes family is.

"Rachel, leave Stevie alone. He doesn't want to play house."Bucky mutters as he enters the room with a drink for Steve and himself. His nose is scrunched up in a short of disgusted manner as he glares at his little sister to stop bothering his friend with her childish obsession of playing with dolls and playing pretend.

Rachel frowns up at her big brother, obviously not taking what he has said to heart. She may not be as old as Rebecca, as wise to her Brothers grumpy antics, but she's not stupid and knows that what her brother says shouldn't be taken to heart. Rachel was a split image of her older brother, with dark hair tugged into two pig tails with blue doe eyes, pasty skin.

"Maybe a little while later, Rach. I've got the case of a food baby."Steve laughs to soothe the little girls mind. As for effect, he pats his stomach earring  giggle from Rachel and a roll of his eyes from Bucky who looks unimpressed with everything going on. If it was up to Bucky, Christmas would consist of eating Thai takeaway and watching mass amounts of YouTube.

Rebecca was somewhere in the house, her bedroom most likely testing out the new make up set that she had managed to plead for, Rose had been out down for a late nap to be awoken in time for desert and Mrs Barnes was doing the annual family phone calls for the entire family, caught between a conversation with a distant aunt on how much the kids have grown. Steve likes this atmosphere, it was family, one he was involved with even for just a short time.

"Scram, twerp."Bucky beckons with his head, his expression stone cold as he watches his little sister rise to her feet and stick out her tongue at him with sound of 'neh' with the vowel dragged out. Bucky mocks his littler sister all the way until she finally leaves the room with a huff, her head held high and determined to steal a cookie.

"Why do you have to be so mean to your sisters?"Steve rolls his eyes, taking the tall glass from Buckys grip.

"Why do you have to be so nice to them?"The fellow teenager scrunches up his face, flopping down onto the opposite recliner chair, pulling the lever and elevating the leg rest. He has his own class of similar liquid nursed in his hands."You're making me out as a bad influence, punk."

"Maybe that's because you are?"Steve smirks, bringing the glass up to his lips and taking a sip. He can feel the familiar burn slide down his throat and settle in his stomach, his face twisted up in a sort of disgust from being caught off guard by the alcoholic drink."Seriously? Vodka and coke?"

"It'll keep you warm."Bucky smirks, taking a gulp from his own glass. He sets the glass onto the side table, knowing he'll get a yelling at by his mom for not using a coaster."And it's Christmas, live a little Stevie."

"What'd you do? Steal it from 'Tasha's?"

"Duh? What's the point in having a Russian friend and not stealing their vodka? It's common sense."Bucky has that odd smile on his face as he leans back into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face and then through his well styled hair. He might not care for Christmas - people in general - but he cared about his appearance, and shamelessly looked good in anything.

"She's going to kill you, Buck."

"Being killed by Natasha's Thighs? Sweet."Bucky smirks, watching the way that Steve rolls his eyes and takes another drink of the alcoholic drink. It was no secret of the on going sex that the two have been sharing for the past year, and it was nothing more than that despite everyone's poking and prodding. Steve thinks otherwise, but whatever.

Steve lets out a hum as the alcohol slides down his throat, hating the fact that how right Bucky is that the alcohol was keeping him warm. He can't help himself but peer down at his mobile phone that sits on the coffee table, the screen on the lid of the phone having not light up with the indication of a new message.

"What's got you so anxious?"

"Huh?"

"You keep looking at your phone as if he's about to do something magnificent. The most a phone like that can do is survive a 100 foot drop off a building."

"Am I not allowed to check my phone like a normal teenager?"Steve raises his eyebrow at Bucky because he's one to talk. Bucky is on his phone more than anyone he knows, other than Clint when he's playing colour switch or some stupid game like that.

"You are not a normal teenager, Stevie. That's the problem."Bucky smirks, eyeing Steve in that 'I know everything' type of way, with his eyes darkening in curiosity. Bucky leans forward in the recliner chair, the leg rest pushed back into the normal seat so his feet are now planted on the ground."C'mon, tell me, who are you sweet on?"

"Wait, what?"Steve is shaking his head in confusion, his face scrunched up.

"Sweet on. Who's the gal? Or is it a fella?"

"I'm not-"

"I'm going to die, I'm going to die! Fuck!"Both Steve and Bucky are turning their attention towards the family room window, just in time to see Clints body fall from the roof and onto the thick pile of snow that lay infront of the large window, scream and all. There's a short second of silence before he's popping up from the pile of snow, covered in white from head to snow and his right ear hearing aid dangling from his ear."Steve! Buck! Get the fuck out here, man."

"Clint, what the fuck were you doing on my roof?"Bucky shouts, getting out of the recliner. Steve is following suit, already reaching for his jacket, scarf and hat.

"James! Language!"Mrs Barnes is shouting from a room away, earning a grumbled apology from Bucky and a roll of his eyes as he glares out the window at Clint who has a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

"Trying to get the fuck away from 'Tasha and Thor. Those two crazy bastards take snow ball fights way too fucking seriously. I think Thor bruised my ribs with a ball of snow."Clint grimaces, giving a shiver as he looks over his shoulder. The snow ball fight had started an hour before, taking it from across the city to Steve and Buckys neighbourhood.

It was somewhat of a Christmas tradition between the group of friends, from the age they first got together as a group, having an extreme snowball fight was a tradition which seemed to get more violent each year as the teens grew up. It was always a fun experience, one that may end with bruises and pain but in the end, worth it to settle in the Barnes household for Hot Chocolate and desert.

"We have _not_ finished this conversation."Bucky turns, glaring at Steve who rolls his eyes, shrugging on his jacket and zipping it up.

"We have no conversation to continue."Steve declares, fixing the scarf around his neck and pulling the hat over his head.

"Guys! They fucking found me! Get out here and save my glorious ass!"Clint shouts dramatically, yelling whenever balls of snow is being pelted his way from a nearby tree that surely can't hold Thors weight yet manages.

"Alright, we're coming."Bucky and Steve say in unison, already heading out the front door, ready to fight until frostbite takes over their body.

~  
~  
~

"I hate you all, I'm going to have snow in my ass for a week."Clint mutters as he stumbles into the Barnes household, shredding of his snow soaked clothing with it all landing in a damp pile on the floor. He has a sour look upon his face, one that makes Natasha snicker from behind her mug of coffee that Mrs Barnes had brought outside for them not that long ago. She's already sitting on the floor of the family room, watching the boys bicker of their lost.

"That's not a good experience for Phil."Bruce smirks, following into the Barnes household with a missing hat and a nursing bruising cheek from the mistake of Thor throwing a ball of ice instead of a ball of snow. His rectangular Glasses were cracked and broken, laying in his pocket."Poor Phils dick."

"Excuse me."Clint turns sharply, stopping the trail of teenagers from entering the warm house making everyone walk into the back of one another."Did you just assume that I'm a bottom?"He glares half heartedly at Bruce.

"There's no need to assume when we _know_."Bruce smirks, pushing Clint further into the house before Phil, Bucky and Steve all freeze to death outside. Clint lets out a whine, stumbling further into the house and towards the family room where a tray of hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows are placed on the coffee table.

"The sex tapes, yes, they were enough evidence that Phil is the one in charge of the relationship."Thor adds his part, shrugging off his soaked jacket and draping it over the radiator. Despite the lack of members, Bucky, Natasha and Thor had won the snow ball fight with a victory of claiming whatever was inside Clints Christmas stocking.

"Yes, thank you Thor! Say it louder, I don't think Bucks little sisters heard."Clint hisses, throwing himself onto the floor beside Natasha and curling into her side like a vulnerable little puppy desperate for affection. Natasha - being the brilliant best friend that she is - strokes at Clints hair.

"There there."She pats with a smirk because as loyal as a best friend that she is, she was one of the hundreds that had witnessed the series of sex tapes involving Phil and Clint. Someone - Bruce - had hacked into Phils computer one time and retrieved the copies for the groups enjoyment and mockery. Thor just so happened to let it slip on accident, resulting to the entire school having a peek of Phil Coulsons dick in Clint Bartons ass.

"It could be worse, bird."Phil chimes, being the reasonable being and hanging his coat up. It wasn't soaked unlike everyone else, Phil had a remarkable skill on disappearing and reappearing in mer seconds.

"Hmm?"Clint leads on, peering over at his boyfriend from where he is curled up into Natashas side, stuffing a pink marshmallow into his mouth. Bruce has taken place on the sofa, Thor in one on the recliners as Bucky and Steve enter the room, riding themselves of their soaked clothing.

"They could've seen your dick."He laughs, followed by a chorus of others as they catch onto what he meant.

"Fuck you. Fuck you all. I'm taking these out now."Clint huffs, lips pouted out as he makes a move to take the hearing aids out of his ears so that he can't listen to _The Clint Barton Christmas Roast._

Dramatically, Clint is setting them on the coffee table with a clank, huffing a breath as he pulls the bag of marshmallows forward and settles into Natashas warmth seeing as she's the only human in the room that isn't being mean to him.

"Steve, your mobile has buzzed about 5 times since we've walked in."Bruce informs, eyes pointing towards the flip phone that lays on the coffee table beside the tray of hot chocolate.

"Mine?"Steve tries to hide his joy, looking confused as he points to himself. The blonde hisses whenever Bucky elbows him in the side."What do you do? Sharpen your elbows?"

"You never know when you might need to use your elbows in a fight, Punk."

"I prefer to use my fists. Like a normal person."

"None of us are normal."Thor speaks up, licking off the hot chocolate-stache he accidentally gave himself.

"True that."Phil and Natasha Salute, raising their mugs before taking a drink of the warm beverage that goes all the way to their bones.

Steve is reaching his phone, shocked to see the 6 text messages left.

** From//Unknown **

**Hi**

** From//Unknown **

**It's tony btw. From the hospital with the arc reactor and shit**

** From//Unknown **

**Idk if ur busy, u probably are bc it's Christmas and ur hanging with your friends i just thought to give you a text  (:**

** From//Unknown **

**Okay idk why i added that smiley face I'm sorry that was weird of me.**

** From//Unknown **

**I realise I'm probably bothering u now. Sorry. There's only so much one can do when stuck in a hospital room. I hope your having a good Christmas.**

** From//Unknown **

**From Tony Stark from the hospital just incase you forgot idk. Bye.**

** To//Unknown **

**Sorry!! I was caught up in an intense snow ball fight with a group of friends. Only back in doors now. I wouldn't forget you, Tony. You're one of a kind.**

** From//Unknown **

**You replied**

** To//Unknown **

**Of course I did! Been waiting on your message all day**

** To//Unknown **

**Okay that sounded a littlw obsessive stalker there**

** From//Unknown **

**Always knew u were into that kinky role play rogers (;**


	10. Chapter Eight

** To//Capsicle **

**I knew u were into that kinky shit Rogers**

** From//Capsicle **

**What kinky shit?**

** To//Capsicle **

**U innocent bean**

** From//Capsicle **

**I am not innocent**

** From//Capsicle **

**I'm dominant**

** To//Capsicle **

**Oh r u now (;**

** To//Capsicle **

**U going to go all dominant on my ass? (;**

"Stupid, Fucking stupid!"Tony swears loudly, the message already send before he can delete what he had just typed. He was on autopilot, as if he was texting Rhodey, because as much as Rhodey was as straight as a ruler and has told Tony on numerous occasions, it didn't stop Tony from flirting or being the first person that Tony latches onto when he's drunk and being as slutty as always.

But this is Steve. His _new_ , _straight_ , friend. Tony has been repeating those words for the last 12 hours, and still, it doesn't correct because Tony Stark doesn't have _friends_ , he has a friend. Steve isn't use to how Tony acts or talks, he doesn't know Tony the way that Rhodey does, he won't be as open minded and uncaring like Rhodey is when it comes to Tony's sexuality and his attachment to affection.

It wasn't as if Tony has ever cared before to hide who he is, his Sexuality is a massive part of who he is, and maybe that's an influence on his life back in campus where he's used as the campuses sex toy, but it was always something that Tony has never hid, he saw no reason. He flaunts a lot of things in his life, his sexuality is a massive one.

Tony had figured out his sexuality at a young age, something he kept a secret of until he had entered MIT and was finally able to embrace being Pansexual, mingling with woman, sitting on Mens laps and flirting with everyone in between. Tony didn't care - he _doesn't_ care who he ends up in bed with when the night is over, and he's pretty sure that's something Steve would frown about, because it sure as hell makes his Parents upset.

Not like he cares what Howard thinks of him. He's been hearing the words that he's useless, scum of the earth, a slur just waiting to be bent over since the moment he came out. He doesn't care. What his Mother thinks of him, is a different matter. Tony loves his Mom, because she might not be Mother of the Year but she loves him, and that's all Tony ever wants.

Anyway, he doesn't want to scare Steve away, in that sense. Tony thinks the teen can stand in front of God himself and not bat an eyelash. But in a way that maybe he's not comfortable with those as open, as easy going when it comes to sexuality and touch that Tony is. Tony doesn't know what Steve is like when it comes to that type of stuff, he's positive that he's straight though, which as much as Tony wouldn't like to admit, is pretty disappointing.

** To//Capsicle **

**Whoops, showed a bit too much gay there lmao ignore that haha**

"Way to sound force, Stark."Tony grumbles bitterly, scowling at his Mobile phone in anger, hoping that somehow a mobile tower will fall over and his message is unable to be sent.

Tonys phone is handmade, built by Tony himself with advanced technology even for the times that they live in. He couldn't deal with IPhones or Samsung mobiles, finding them too clunky and easily breakable, always bugging or smashing into pieces. This phone however, is quick and will have to take an intense amount of pressure for it to break.

His hospital room is blanked in darkness, the blinds drawn closed in his room and the only light source being the light coming off of his - christened - 'Stark Phone' with AC/DC playing to his left from a portable speaker that was hidden in one of the drawers beside his hospital bed. There had already been nurses round to give him one dose of medication, another not scheduled until later.

** From//Capsicle **

**Sorry!! One of bucks lil sisters stole my phone to play snake or something while I was getting food**

** To//Capsicle **

**Fooooooooooooooooood**

** To//Capsicle **

**I could do w/ food rn. But hospital food sucks major balls so I guess I'll starve**

** From//Capsicle **

**Nvm Natasha stole my food fml**

** To//Capsicle **

**If I hear one more Christmas song I'm going to jump out the window, I swear. I've heard Rudolf The Rednose Reindeer 14 times in 2 hours and it's making me want to Fucking cry**

** To//Capsicle **

**I don't see who tf they r playing the music for bc everyone in this ward is in comas and I trying to listen to AC/DC ughhhhhh**

** To//Capsicle **

**Steve help me**

** To//Capsicle **

**SAVE ME**

** From//Capsicle **

**I would if I could but I can't so I shan't**

** To//Capsicle **

**U snuck in a cheeseburger and milkshake, I think ud be able to sneak out a 5'11 teenager**

** From//Capsicle **

**U are not 5'11**

** To//Capsicle **

**I am!**

** From//Capsicle **

**5'8 at the most**

** To//Capsicle **

**U r now being shunned Steve Rogers. SHUNNED.**

** To//Capsicle **

**U 6'2 giant**

** To//Capsicle **

**Why are you so tall????**

** From//Capsicle **

**I thought you were 'shunning' me?**

** To//Capsicle **

**Yeah but then I realised that Rhodey has his phone taken off of him bc it's Christmas and Mama Rhodes hates phones at Christmas, which means I only have one other person to talk to and that's you. So here I am. Again.**

** From//Capsicle **

**What about your family? Didn't they come to visit?**

** To// Capsicle **

**Yeah, for a while but I was doped af on my meds so it wasn't all that good. Will probably see them tomorrow tho, probably not. They're busy people**

Tony bites his bottom lip, feeling guilty that he's lying to Steve as easy as speaking a sentence. His lies about his parents came easily, he has been telling fibs since the moment he could talk and it was no use telling the truth to play some sort of sympathy card because he doesn't want that. He _doesn't_ want people to feel sorry for him that he spends Christmas Day alone, locked in a workshop and AC/DC, he doesn't want that suburban family Christmas with a Christmas tree and present giving, eating food around a table like a _family_.

He _doesn't_.

** From// Capsicle **

**Oh**

** From//Capsicle **

**That kinda sucks**

Tony startles as he feels a hand upon his clothed shoulder, his head whipping round to catch a glance at the intruder who was looking over his shoulder in the most friendly way possible. It's Sarah, with kind eyes as she mouths for Tony to turn down the music that really, is way too loud for human ears but at a Tony Stark level of loudness.

Dropping the phone onto his lap, he's making a grab for the speaker and turning it off, surprised with the ringing in his own ears of how loud the music actually was. He has turned it up even further to block out the Christmas songs that was playing in the hallway. With the music now turned off, Tony can hear the soft chime of a bell of his heart monitor ring throughout the room.

"Afternoon, Sarah."Tony flashes her his signature smile, full of teeth and playful innocence, a smile large enough that it causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle in the slightest. He's always glad to see Sarah, she's a darling and as previously mentioned, one of the few staff members to actually like Tony and don't find him a condescending asshole.

"Hello Tony."She smiles, bruising a strand of her falling blonde hair out of her eyes."I've been told -"She picks up the clipboard hung beside Tony's bed,"- that you've been refusing to eat any meals that the hospital provide you. Now, what's the case with that?"

"Who cares for my eating habits, really? I think the problem is why are you here on Christmas Day?"Tony changes the subject, picking at a seam on his fluffy pyjama bottoms that were thick and comfy, keeping him warm.

"It's my job, Tony."She shakes her head, following his lingering eye to the tray of food and medication that's sits on his table. It was an endless battle when it came to food, but medication came simpler than what people thought. Turns out, Tony doesn't want to die yet, but he doesn't mind suffering."You're only 16, you don't have the trouble of a job, just yet that is."

"You shouldn't be working on Christmas Day."Tony brushes off her comment. It comes to a surprise that Sarah has yet to recognise him as the Poster Child for Future Stark Tech, which may or may not be in progress depending if Howard can get his hands on his Sons technology. But even at that, the media follows his ass even when he goes to take a leak, you'd think Sarah would see him as he is, and not as the teenager that everyone seems to miss.

"Tony, I don't mind working Christmas Day. Somebody has to work it, and if I don't then someone else will take my place."

"I don't care about anyone else. I care about you. You've been looking after me since I woke up, and I think that you deserve to go home and spend it with your family."He huffs stubbornly.

"That's very sweet of you,"She sighs, shaking her head at the kindness of the teenager that sits on the bed."I will be back in half an hour. I expect all of this food to be gone when I return, medication and all."She gives him a smile before leaving the hospital room, closing the door behind her.

Taking a glance at the tray, Tony is quick to ignoring what he has to do and gathers his phone back into his hands.

** From//Capsicle **

**Tonnnnnnnny????**

** From//Capsicle **

**Where are you??**

** From//Capsicle **

**Where did u go??**

** From//Capsicle **

**Question: when r u being discharged??**

** To//Capsicle **

**Hopefully before New Year. Depends what the doc says. Why?**

** From//Capsicle **

**Out of curiosity (:**


	11. Chapter Nine

** From// Tony **

**Are you coming up today?**

** From// Tony **

**No pressure but just wondering??**

** From// Tony **

**So I know to shower or not**

** From// Tony **

**So I can look my best**

** To// Tony **

**R u gonna be in a suit and tie or something?**

** From// Tony **

**I'll be in my best leggings and hoodie for you babe (:**

** From// Tony **

**Does that mean a yes????????????**

** To// Tony **

**Was those question marks necessary**

** From// Tony **

**STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE, just answer the question**

** To// Tony **

**Yes, I'm being dropped off soon (:  
  
** To// Tony

**Do u want me to bring u anything up? Food? Clothes?**

** From// Tony **

**Coffee?? I'll pay u back, swears**

** From// Tony **

**Black 2 sugars large**

** From// Tony **

**(:**

"Who's that?"Clints voice startles Steve from his texting, fumbling with the mobile in his abnormally large hands as he struggles to catch it without it falling. His alerted action causes Natasha to swerve the car, earning annoyed honks of horns from other drivers and angered Russian Swears to be shouted out the window from Natasha.

Steve clutches the phone tight to his chest, away from prying eyes and fumble hands that want to see who it is that Steve has been messaging. They're a close knit bunch of friends, one that knew every dirty little secret and story about one another and seemingly at one point, seen each other naked at _least_ once - Seeing the pale of Clints ass is a day that Steve will _never_ forget, Unfortunately.

It's not as if he doesn't want his friends to know - because of course, they will eventually whether Steve tells them himself or someone steals his phone - because he does, on his own terms. He just wants to have a friendship away from his main group of friends, with someone who doesn't know Steve like the rest do, one that can be built from the ground up.

He also doesn't want them to find out just yet due to the fact that means they'd want to meet Tony, want to know every little expect of his life that Steve knows, where he's from, what school he goes to and all the works. Steve himself doesn't even know all of that, and in a way, he doesn't want to know just yet. Tony doesn't seem like the kind of person for sharing personal details of his life and that suits Steve just fine, because hey, neither is he.

"No one."Steve replies quickly, looking away from Clints questioning eyes. The blonde pouts, hooking his arm over the headrest and onto Steves shoulder.

"I may be deaf, but I'm not dumb. Who are you texting?"He asks, resting his chin on Steves shoulder and peering at the phone that Steve is so desperately trying to hide away from prying eyes."Is it the guy you're gonna meet today?"

"I'm not _meeting_ anyone."

"Then why are you going to the hospital?"

" _Why_ are you even here? Don't you have studying to do?"

"It's winter break! Who studies during winter break?"

"Bruce."Natasha adds, honking the horn whenever a driver over takes her and sweating out the window at the driver.

"Well Bruce is a nerd."Clint snorts, cocking his head to the side.

"Well I'm not going to argue with that."Bruce shrugs from his place beside Clint in the backseat, half listening to the conversation as he works his way through a bunch of papers in his folder. Bruce looks up, pushing his glasses up his nose."Although, it would help your grades if you'd at least _try_ and study. You're barely passing at least 5 of your subjects."

"Look, this isn't about whether I'm passing high school or not, this is about who Stevie is sweet on."Clint huffs, not up for another round of A Clint Barton Roast, because as much as he hates to admit it, Phil is right when he says that Clint can give but can't take.

"I'm not sweet on anyone!"Steve groans.

"All of you stop shouting or get out!"Natasha threatens, she slams on the breaks which makes everyone pull forward in their seat, Bruce grabbing the back of Clints jacket before the blonde is thrown through the front wind screen of Peggy. The wind is taking out of everyone, forcefully slumping back into their seats as the car sits on the edge of the road.

Everyone mutters an apology, not meeting Natasha's dangerous eye as the car starts to move again. Bruce awkwardly goes back to whatever he was doing, blocking out the other three in the car with his earphones.

"So, do we know them?"Clint asks, leaning to whisper into Steves ear, failing whenever his voice comes out louder than what he thought.

"Will you actually can it?"

"It's just a simple question!"He protests."Just tell us Stevie and then we'll stop bothering ya'."

"No you don't know him."

"So it's a him!"

"Clint, sit down and leave Steve the fuck alone."Natasha orders.

"Make me."Clint childishly sticks out his tongue at the red head who gives the blonde in the back seat _the_ look. The type of look that can make even the biggest of men crumble under such an intense stare - and as much as Natasha is his best friend, Clint is fucking frightened of her.

Steve is never more glad to be dropped off at the hospital, calling out a goodbye to the three remaining in the car as he ran his way to the entrance out of the cold before he suffers from frostbite. He's never had good experience with the cold, it brought back bad childhood memories that he tries his hardest to forget.

As promised, he buys Tony a coffee on his way up to his room, as well a a cup of tea for himself since he's never really been the coffee fan. As polite as ever, Steve says his Hellos to the staff that recognise him as being Sarah Rogers 'Little boy' and stops at odd times to chat with a couple of patients.

There's a bubbling feeling of anxiety in Steves stomach whenever he gets to Tony's hospital room floor and he isn't sure exactly why. It's not as if this is the first time they've met, it's the second actually but whatever. He knows Tony, they're friends - they've had that conversation a lot of times - and they've been texting nonstop since Christmas.

"Steve!"Tony grins, opening the door for the towering teenager that stands awkwardly outside the hospital room unable to knock or open the door due to the cups in his hands. It sure is a different sight from the first time that Tony had seen Steve at his hospital door, greeting him with a grin that reaches his eyes than the confused frown like last time.

Tony's hair is still a little damp, dark hair a curled nest on his head and his glasses folded over the collar of his overly thick hoodie with the MIT crest printed onto the front of it. Despite the smile on his face, Tony is looking a little uneasy for a reason that Steve wants to know but not enough to ask him.

"Hey,"Steve offers a smile, glad to see that Tony is up and about unlike last time. He had been complaining nonstop about the dreadful bedrest that his doctor had put him on after news had spread of his fixing up the hospital room."You're looking a lot healthier."

"Is that your way of saying that I was not before?"Tony gasps, slightly offended at Steves words. He places a hand over his heart, arm accidentally brushing against where the arc reactor is placed under his thick hoodie which causes the teen to grimace just a little, something that Steve catches onto.

"What- no, I-"

"Save it, Cap. I'm only messing."Tony's smile is enough to reassure Steve that he's only teasing."Yinsen says if I can manage not to have a heart attack or die within the next 48 hours then I'm free to- oh! You bought me coffee!"Tony is snatching the coffee cup from Steves hands, letting out a blissful sigh as he takes a whiff of the coffee with a smile on his face.

He takes a gulp, liking his lips in an action that Steve shouldn't find attractive but he does. Tony is already whirling around to where his stuff lay out on top of the drawers and of his hospital bed, setting his cup onto the bedside table as he goes to attempt to take the suitcase out from under the bed, something Steve puts a stop to immediately.

"I'll do that."Steve insists, setting his own cup onto the table and throwing his backpack onto the bed as he assists Tony on pulling the suitcase out from under the bed.

"I may have nearly died but that does _not_ mean that I'm fragile."Tony huffs, stepping back to allow Steve to pull out the suitcase because he hates to admit it but he's lazy and he's rather watch Steve flex those muscles than do it himself. Steve pulls it out and sets it on the bed, stepping out of the way whenever Tony rushes to unzip it.

"So where is that you'll go whenever you leave?"Steve asks out of curiosity, nearly tripping over  Tony's wires as Tony stretches out the wires of the heart monitor that chimes with ever beat of his heart.

"Home, I guess. Long Island if you wanna know. Then I'll be off to MIT by the New Year."Tony informs, throwing a couple of items of clothing into the open suitcase, most of his clothing being brought forward and back by Jarvis whenever he came up to visit. He's normally be doing this, but now that he's up and about Tony is going to take advantage.

"MIT?"

"Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It's where I live, technically, I'm a student there. Studying Electrical Engineering."He speaks as if Steve should know and maybe Steve _should_ , they have been talking for a while now."It's such a relief to know I'm not going to be trapped in this god forsaken place _forever_ , I mean, I'm going to be checked up on constantly but it'll be worth it."

"That's- That's pretty far."Steve observes, taking a sip from his tea. He doesn't know why he suddenly feels a little upset, maybe it's because he hoped that Tony lived a little closer than that or at least when to a high school nearby.

"It is."Tony's voice holds emotion that Steve is only realising now. He turns, oddly white glasses been moved onto the bridge of his nose as he looks up at Steve with a reassuring smile."But don't worry, we can still chat. It's not as if I'm going to Mars or something. Honestly, I'm not going to lose my second friend due to where I study."

"Good, because I'm sure not gonna let ya'."Steve smirks from behind his cup, catching Tony off guard as the smaller teen laughs and nudges him in the shoulder."We gotta meet up again before you leave though, you should come to Brooklyn. I can show you around, take you for pizza."

"This is sounding a lot like a date, Rogers."Tony giggles, waggling his eyebrows at the teenager that stands before him. A date with Steve isn't something that Tony would deny upon, mostly because Steve is a gentleman of a guy, handsome in all his might and willing to go to lengths to make Tony smile-

"No! Not a date!"Steve laughs it off, something that causes Tony to immediately frown at the reaction. He turns quickly to focus on packing his suitcase before Steve can see the sadness that Tony knows is washed over his face."Just to hang out."

"Yeah, uh, I'll see if I can fit that in."


	12. Chapter Ten

In some way, Tony should be happy that he's heading home, that's he being discharged with a clap on the back, a complete food and work out schedule to get him back on track and a stern talking to about looking after himself. He should be happy, it means that he gets to sleep in a bed that doesn't have a mattress made of rocks and a room that gives off the comforting smell of motor oil and aftershave that still lingers despite the many times the housekeeping staff clean his room.

He should be happy that he's going home, that he's going to be able to see his Mom for the first time since that day of the accident, that he'll be able to see Jarvis without seeing that look of concern wash over his face every time the heart monitor misses a chime. He should be happy because it's his home, it should be his home, he should be happy.

And that's the problem, it's all a _Should be_. He should be happy that he's going home, that she going to see his Mom, to sleep in his own bed, his own room, his own home. He should be happy that he's going to eat food cooked by highly paid chefs and be catered by housekeeping that are hired to wipe his ass for him if need be. But he isn't.

In hospital, he's been sheltered from storming Paparazzi that have been following him since the announcement of Howard and Maria Starks pregnancy, he's been out of the way of his Fathers mood swings and back lashes, he's been through a rough patch of detox and damn, despite the fact he has a hole in his chest, he feels pretty damn good.

But he's going to step out into the open - for the first time since god knows when, Tony has lost count of how long he's been here - and have cameras shoved into his space, that ever so famous fake smile plastered back on his pretty space and that Stark charm oozing out of him. He's going to have to make a show, probably pushed into a Stark Charity event so that Howard can show everyone that his son isn't dead and then have his ass beaten for _nearly_ dying in he first place.

Waiting in the underground carpark, Tony fiddles with a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers out of boredom, giving him something to fiddle with since he can do a thing without fiddling with _something_. He'd message Steve, keep his mind occupied but he doesn't want to seem clingy - because he is, well he'd deny that if asked but Rhodey would admit of Tony's clinginess.

"Thought you'd leave without a goodbye?"

"Who says this will be the last time I'm landed in hospital?"Tony offers Sarah a lopsided smirk, shoving the cigarette into the pocket of his hoodie, hoping that she didn't see it. His suitcase is prompted up beside him, clothing neatly folded by Steve and other items thrown in by Tony.

"Well I hope it is,"She sighs, shaking her head at the teenager that stands before him, looking a lot healthier than what he was just weeks ago. It's always been a hard position as a nurse, to see children and teenagers alike be rushed into emergency, especially with having a teenager herself sitting at home.

It was so lifting to see that Tony wasn't letting the Arc Reactor get in the way of his shining personality, he'd been up the day he'd awoke, fiddled and upgraded everything in his hospital room and still managed to charm the nurses and wiggle his way into Sarah's Rogers heart with those coffee brown eyes and sleep ruffled hair.

"You'll see me again, and anyway, I'm not all that good with goodbyes."Tony admits, offering Sarah the best smile that he can manage at this current time.

"But you are good at leaving behind unwanted money,"She points out, taking the wad of cash that she had found in her pigeonhole when she arrived for her shift. It didn't take her long to figure out who had left it and the occasion why.

"Nope, not taking it. Take it as a tip for looking after me."

"Tony, it was my job."

"Which you did well and I'm very thankful for that, trust me, that's why I'm giving you the money."He dodges Sarah as she tries to hand the money back to the teenager, shaking his head and taking steps away."Keep it, please. Treat yourself with new shoes or tidy up your house, or take your son out for dinner, I don't know but _don't_ give it back to me."

"I can't take your money, you're just a kid!"She stresses, watching the way that an unidentifiable emotion flickers through Tony's eyes before it disappears.

It felt strange in a way for someone to not know who he was, it was the same effect with every time that Tony would try and repay Steve back and for the blonde to shake his head and tell him not to waste his money. It felt weird because Tony isn't use to having people bug him things or have people refuse his money, it's normally the other way round. It felt _stranger_ when somebody had no idea of his wealthy whatsoever, despite the length of time knowing him.

In a way, Tony's kind of glad that Sarah and Steve are the few people not to know who he is. It gave and still does give him time to show who he really is and not how the media portrays him to be, something that Tony is never given the opportunity to do.

"Then give it to charity, put it away to help your son through college."Tony shrugs, turning his head whenever a car begins to emerge into the private underground carpark. He looks back at Sarah, looking at the cash she continues to hold out, desperately wanting Tony to take before he looks back at her and smiles."That's my ride."

"Stay out of trouble."She sighs in defeat, watching as Tony smiles whenever she puts the money back into her pocket.

"I can't promise anything,"Tony gives the nurse a lopsided smile, offering her his hand to Shake and letting out a sound of surprise whenever he's pulled into a gentle hug instead, Sarah weary of the Arc Reactor as she hugs the teenager. Tony allows himself to relax into the hug for a moment, closing his eyes as he sighs in content of just being held.

The hug ends far too soon, with Sarah breaking it and taking a step away with a small smile. Never has a patient made such an impact on her life, it was terrifyingly odd but she doesn't feel regret towards it.

"Pay me a visit sometime,"

"Of course, I'll make sure you're the nurse I go to the next time I nearly die from alcohol poisoning."He smirks, holding his hands up on the air whenever Sarah glares at him."I'm kidding! I'm a responsible young adult."

"Of course you are."She shakes her head and with that, she leaves Tony where he stands in the car park. Tony swallows the lump in his throat, taking his eyes off where Sarah was standing as he forces himself to turn towards the car that has stopped beside him.

It's one of Howard's Classics, vintage and stylish and one that Tony hopes to inherit as soon as his so called father croaks it. It's a beautiful car, much like the rest that Howard has stashed in the garage for eyes only to view. Although, it didn't stop Tony from taking a car every once in awhile for a spin, totally worth the back hand when caught.

Jarvis is the man who steps out of the car, in a professional manner but with a tad of sass to everything that he says or does, something that gives Tony that Home vibe _immediately_. A grin breaks out into Tony's face, happy to see the man despite only seeing him a couple of days ago. However this was different, this wasn't just Jarvis coming to visit Tony, it was him bringing him home.

"It's good to see you, Sir."

"It's good to see you too, J."Tony echoes, suitcase in the trunk as he slides into the backseat. Jarvis is situated in the passenger, A driver situated where he should be. Tony allows himself to relax into the expensive leather of the seats, head lolling back with familiarisation surrounding him."Y'know what I could really go with right now?"

"And what would that be, sir?"

"A cheeseburger,"

"I think a celebration cheeseburger is in order, Sir."

Tony can truthfully say that nothing tastes better than a cheeseburger, maybe coffee and sometimes his Aunt Peggy's special Apple Pie, but Cheeseburger is definitely in his top 5 list of favourite foods. He manages to finish in record time, disposing of the wrappers before they pull up at Stark Manor because god knows the fit that Maria Stark will take if she finds out her son is eating a cheeseburger when there's probably some fancy dinner planned to celebrate his recovery.

Which there is, Tony calls it when they leave Burger King driver thru and Jarvis owns him coffee for a week. All Tony wants more in life is to go to bed and sleep in his own bed for the duets time in ages, maybe say Hello to his Mom and then phone Rhodey to tell him that he's home safely, but then disappear.

That doesn't happen, of course.

Maria is waiting whenever Tony trudges through the front door, his arms self consciously doing the best hiding of his Arc Reactor that can be done. It's something he's just going to have to deal with, live with it and if that's the case then he's just going to have to deal with his Mom complaining about it for the rest of his life.

One thing that Tony can admit is that his Mom sure knows how to present herself, beautifully made up in sophisticated clothing that costs a pretty dime and a smile that Tony would call fake if it wasn't for the occasion of which it's on her face for.

"Hey Mom,"Tony says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster at the moment, giving his Mother his best smile whenever she takes quick steps towards her son, heels clicking against the marbled flooring of the hallway.

Tony is wrapped up in a hug that should be called Awkward, because it is with Maria's arms around his shoulders and Tony left unsure of where to place his own arms or if he should hug back. It wasn't like the hug he received from Sarah, that had been a genuine hug of 'Please be safe' unlike the hug he's receiving now, forced.

"It's so good to see you,"Maria whispers, pulling away from the hug but moving her hands to place on either side of Tony's slowly healing face. The scars were healed over and the bruises fading but he was still tender."I was so worried, Anthony."

"Obviously not enough to come and visit me in the hospital."Tony grumbles, trying to pull away from his Mothers touch.

"I was stressed, your father took me on a holiday to calm my nerves after the mess you made of our home. 2 weeks it took to fix your mess, your father has to fly in the best of men-"

" _You're stressed_?"Tony laughs darkly, shaking off Maria's touch and taking steps away from her. The house has obviously been fixed as best as it can despite the short time, but it has been fixed up and you wouldn't even know that there was a problem to begin with."I'm the one with the fucking hole in my chest and _you're stressed_?"

"Well of course I am. You destroyed my home, you ruined Christmas and nearly destroyed your fathers company due to the bad publicity of his products."Maria speaks without as much as emotion in her voice, watching as Tony just shakes his head.

"Yes, how bad of me for getting blown up just before Christmas, I should've thought about Howard's Company first! How would the media handle such news that Stark Industries are selling dodgy missiles!"Tony throws his arms up into the air, moving past his Mom so he can make his way up the stairs."Nothing ever fucking changes, does it?"

"This attitude better change by the time that your father comes home, Anthony. He's already in a horrible mood with you due to this whole incident, you'll just make it worse for yourself if you keep this up."Maria speaks after her son, watching as Tony continues to walk up the stairs."There's a tailored suit for you hanging on your door for this evening, do try it on."

"I'm not going. Have the dinner without me."

"This Dinner is for you, set up by your Father and I to show how happy we are of your recovery. You are attending. Some of your Fathers business associates will be there, you will be on your best behaviour."


	13. Chapter Eleven

"Look, I'll pay for your flight, just don't let me go to this dinner alone."Tony near enough begs, kicking his suitcase under his bed, shifting the boxes that have a home underneath his bed that Tony doesn't trust to be put into storage. He'd rather have his old blueprints and little gadgets under his bed where he knows that they are instead of some Stark Industries storage unit where he's sure Howard and Obi will steal his ideas.

As much as Howard sees his son as a failure - and really, it can't be seen as Tony's fault because the only reason he has the campus label of a manwhore is because he wants to rub it into Howard's face - he can't disagree with the fact that Tony is a genius. It would be said to be the only good thing about Tony from the eyes of Howard, that he has a brain in his head and ideas in his mind that blow Howard Starks ideas out of the ocean.

But Tony is stubborn, he doesn't want his ideas to be in the hands of people like Howard or his business partner Obi. He knows that whatever Tony has his ideas for, will be turned on its head and used for weapons, for manipulating technology that will sure be used to take over the world or some illogical shit like that.

It wouldn't be the first time that they've tried to take his ideas and it won't be the last either.

"As much as I want to be stuck in a hall filled with overweight billionaires with rods up their asses, I can't. I have work to be getting on with."Rhodey sighs on the other side of the phone, actually sounding sad that he is picking doing work over spending time with Tony. Of course, he wasn't the one to be drinking until he's picking into bushes but James Rhodes is no wuss and he can hold his fair share of drinks.

"For fuck sake, Rhodey. I told you I'd do your work for you!"

"Tony, as much as you think my professors are dimwitted, they know the difference between our work."He rolls his eyes, the tip of his pencil caught between his teeth.

"They should be grateful that they're even getting the opportunity to glance at my work."Tony mutters halfheartedly, picking up one of the prototype tablets that had been left abandoned on his clustered desk. He wouldn't go as far as saying that his bedroom is a mess, I mean yes it could go with a tidying up and maybe once in a while the maid could be allowed in to clean up, but Tony knows where everything is and it isn't _dirty_.

It's not as if he uses his bedroom often enough anyway, it was simply his own type of storage unit to keep his blueprints under his bed and prototypes stashed into boxes. Even when it comes to longer breaks, Tony doesn't spend time at home unless his Mother insists and even at that, it's for a short amount of time that he spends it with Jarvis more than his actual mom.

He'd had tutors come in at the young age to teach a young Tony things that he had already picked up from text books himself, and it wasn't until he was 8 that he was sent off to boarding school. His summer breaks spent with Traveling with his Aunt Peggy, and Winter with whoever was free enough to take the responsibility of Tony Stark.

So all in all, his bedroom has mostly been left untouched, with a bed that Tony has only slept in a handful of times. Tony has never gave himself the opportunity to sleep soundly while at home, despite the bolt lock he has installed on his bedroom door and the locks on his window, he never felt safe.

"Look, I'll do your work and I'll fly you over. Free food? And free drink?"Tony tries to bargain, swiping his free hand across the screen of the prototype tablet to bring it to life.

"Look, invite that new friend of yours, Stephen or something."

"It's Steve,"Tony snaps defensively, bottom lip jotted out in concentration as his fingers dance across the screen of the tablet. He has it resting on a cleaner desk, papers piled up high with notes and ideas that Tony hasn't glanced at in years."And anyway, he doesn't know."

"What do you mean _he doesn't know_?"

"That my sperm donor is Howard Stark, that I'm the next heir to Stark Industries, that I'm a genius all that type of stuff. And I don't want him to know either. He treats me like a human, that I'm the same, well not the same because of this arc reactor but y'know, as a teenager."

"Tony, if you want this friendship to continue he's going to know sometime or another, whether that be by seeing your face popped up on some tabloid after tonight's event or from you yourself."He can practically hear the tiredness in Rhodeys voice.

"I'll probably be dead in a month anyway-"

"Tony, stop being so melodramatic."

"Look, anyway there's a flight leaving Philadelphia in 3 hours, that gives you enough time to pack your stuff, tell your mom and still manage to get for 7PM. Don't worry about formal wear, I'll have Jarvis ring up the best tailor is Rhode Island to fix you a suit in time for the dinner."He swipes down on the tablet, typing out a message that will sent to Jarvis to inform him.

"It's like talking to a fucking brick wall."Rhodey whispers to himself, throwing his pencil across the room as he pushes himself out of his chair. It's not as if he doesn't want to see Tony - because by god he does, as much as that boy does his head in sometimes, he brings entertainment to his life and gives him a reason of protectiveness - he doesn't want to deal with brining his news to his mom about getting up and leaving before University even starts back up.

"So that's a yes? I'll pick you up, I'll steal one of Howard's cars, he won't even notice it's gone Wherever the fuck he is, but if I can't I'll get a driver to pick you up, okay? No point getting a bedroom fixed up, you're bunking with me, that good? Of course that's good-"

"Babe, you're rambling."Rhodey forcefully cuts him off, pulling out his suitcase from under his bed, his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

"Right, sorry."Tony mumbles, swiping over the screen to shut the tablet off, the flight booked and references sent to Rhodeys email for him to print out before he leaves the house."I have everything sorted, sent to your email."

"Thanks,"Rhodey can't help but to roll his eyes a little, because no more than 10 minutes ago was he studying for January exams and now he's on his way to New York to attend an Event to celebrate his best friend getting out of his hospital."I'll ring you before I get on the plane."

"Okay, Love you Honey Bear. Give my love to Momma Rhodes."Tony kisses down the phone even after Rhodey has said his own goodbyes and has hung up. With a heavy sigh, Tony looks down at his phone, a weight off of his shoulders now that he knows that he won't be alone during this dinner.

When Tony is involved, nothing ever goes to plan and honestly, he thought that his Mother would know by now not to bring him along because it's going to end up in with an argument between Tony and Howard or something worse. It always does because Tony and Howard can never see eye to eye and both provoke the argument.

He dreads the dinner, despite the fact that Rhodey will be there because he knows that he's going to be shown around the guests like some prized cattle, with them wanting to poke and prod and lay attention to the Arc Reactor that is nestled in Tony's chest. They're going to want to ask questions, talk to Tony about his education as if they give a shit of what he wants to do in life.

After a few hours of procrastinating, Tony hops into the shower, scrubbing himself clean of the dreaded Hospital stench that seemed to have stained his skin. He washes from head to toe, rinse and repeat because he might not be happy about going to his dinner event but that doesn't mean he's going to show up looking like a slob. Tony Stark dresses to impress.

Picking up his Phone, Tony can't help the grin that breaks out on his lips as he sees the messages left by Steve, rubbing the towel through his hair once more before dropping it into the hamper. He's dressed in a pair of legging type tracksuit bottoms, a thick hoodie thrown on in an attempt to cover the slow old the reactor and glasses on his nose, for the mean time until the dinner.

** From// Capsicle **

**Hey Tony, you doing okay??**

** From// Capsicle **

**Just wanted to know if you got home safe, I know today is your day of doing home**

Tony bites his bottom lip with a grin, sitting down on the edge of his bed. It's ridiculous of how Steve makes him feel sometimes, how even just remembering the simplest of things makes Tony's day brighten up because somebody _cares_ , or at least that's what Tony keeps telling himself.

** To// Capsicle **

**Thanks for the concern, home safe.**

** From// Capsicle **

**That's good (: Was your family glad to see you home?**

** To// Capsicle **

**Hahahahaha no. Walked through the door and had an argument with my mom, Fun.**

** From// Capsicle **

**Oh. I'm sorry, Tony. I mean at least your home though, right? It's better than being stuck in a hospital, at least now you can go out places.**

** To// Capsicle **

**Was that an invitation on inviting me out? (;**

The sound of knocking on his bedroom door is what causes Tony to look up from his phone, brows drowning in confusion as he stares at his door because nobody ever knocks. It's too early for it to be Rhodey and even if it was, he'd text him to tell him that he's here, Jarvis is out for the afternoon and won't be back until the dinner.

Pushing himself off the bed, Tony shuffles his way towards the door just as the knocking starts again, more inpatient than before. Hesitantly, Tony is unbolting the lock on his bedroom door and opening the door, finding himself face to face with Howard who stands in front of Tony. It's a shock to even see the man, nevertheless for him to be knocking on Tony's door during the _day_.

"Anthony."Howard addresses him, tone dull as he speaks. Tony should count himself lucky that he's being spoken to while he's sober, it's a rare moment.

"Howard."He nods his head in a sort of greeting, half of his body remaining hidden behind the bedroom door, not fully opening or exposing himself to the man in front of him. It's obvious that Maria is the one that has forced Howard up the stairs to talk to their son, Tony can tell by the way he has yet to leave.

"I see you're still alive."

"Unfortunately so,"Tony rolls his eyes, voice grave."What do you want?"

"Wanted to see the damage for myself, the work of this Arc Reactor I hear that is now keeping you alive."He takes a step towards he bedroom door, causing Tony to push the door to a closer close.

"Why? So that you can rip it out of my chest yourself? I think not."Tony gives the man a stare, one that he receives back. It's all fun and games, what tiny could like to say it is because death is a funny subject to talk about, especially with Howard because he's seen death, he's been _close_ to death and so has Tony.

"Do you think I'd do such a thing?"Howard raises an eyebrow at the person he calls his son, he's _forced_ to call his son. If it wasn't for the brain in his head, Howard would've thrown Tony out onto the streets the moment that he could. Tony swallows thickly, meeting those familiar shade of brown eyes, a face of his own looking back at him because he can deny it all he wants but he looks like Howard and it's unmistakable.

"Yes."Tony answers truthfully, keeping their stare."You'd do a lot of things to me just because you just could, and that's the truth."Tony's voice holds so much more, something that only Howard understands because neither might not be good with people but their good with one another, Tony can get inside of Howard's head and the same for the other with just words.

Tony is close and bolting the bedroom door before Howard can reply, knowing that the man has so much more to say but willing to bite his tongue to say it all tonight. Interactions with Howard is never pleasant and Tony wants to keep them to a minimal for the rest of his life, or hopefully for the rest of Howard's life.

Tonight's going to be entertaining 


	14. Chapter Twelve

"Honey Bear!"Is the greeting that James Rhodes is met with the Second that he steps into Stark Mansion - and okay, sometimes he thought that Tony was over exaggerating on the size but now as he stands in the grand front hall, it's fucking massive - with his suitcase trailed behind him on the marble floor and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

For the years that Tony and Rhodey have been friends it wasn't usual for Tony to be the one inviting Rhodey over to his home in Rhode Island, because yeah they stayed in the London apartment when they visited London over the summer and one of the Winter cabins in Canada last winter, but it was always just them too, in a house that defiantly didn't feel like a home. Rhodey hadn't questioned it, he knew of how bad of a relationship Tony had with his parents - or at least knew _some_ of it.

Shamelessly, Tony had made himself right at home the first time he had visited the Rhodes household, bundled up with blankets and ushered in front of the fire the Second he came in front the snow blizzard outside. He was a people pleaser and a damn charmer, and Rhodey would've been jealous of affection his mother was giving to Tony but really, it made him happy that Tony was getting the motherly affection and attention he knew he deserved.

"Tones."Rhodey grins whenever he spots Tony dashing down the grand steps, skipping two at a time and dressed in a tank top and dirty jeans, obvious that he was working on something in his room before the old man arrived. His hair is a mess of curls, forming a nest on top of his head and something that's only familiar when the younger man is just out of the shower or woken up.

The grin on Rhodey's face flatters whenever he comes face to face to the damage that has been thrust upon Tony's body, from the healing scars on his face, arms and chest and the odd blue glow of the arc reactor that is now nestled in his chest. He was told by Tony of what the damages were, even send the blueprints for the arc rector, but seeing it now doesn't help the overwhelming sensation he now feels.

"I've missed you so much."Tony is quick to collide into Rhodey's chest, arms wrapping around the older man in a desperate hug that he's been longing for for weeks.

"I've missed you too, Tones."He lets out a relaxed sigh, the tension he didn't know was heavy on his shoulders melting away whenever he has Tony in his arms. His head had been swimming in worry over the holidays whenever Tony had failed to ring and message him constantly like he usually does, and even more so after he had woken up and told him of the situation.

"You have no fucking idea how happy I am to see you. Did you know that I found fur in my pudding while in hospital? Fucking _fur_ , Rhodey."Tony looks up at the man, his face fallen is shock and disgust of what he had to endure. Of course it didn't happen every day, because not every day did he eat, and sometimes Steve came up with cheeseburgers which was excellent but still.

"I get it wasn't even fur,"

"It was!"

"You're delusional. What are you smoking now."Rhodey rolls his eyes before giving the shorter male a playful glare that means more than meets the eye.

"I'm clean! I promise!"Tony raises his hands up in surrender, taking a step away from Rhodey who continues to give him that disapproving look that he has seemed to develop over the time he's known Tony Stark."Well, I've been doped up on Morphine for like 3 weeks but I'm clean of weed, and cocaine-"

"Tony!"

"Oh my god, I'm teasing."Tony rolls his eyes, gesturing with his hands around the empty space that surrounds them. Anything coming into the house for the dinner would be entering through the backdoor into the rooms strictly only used for Dinners and guests, it also helps draw attention away from the damage of the house that is still noticeable."It's not as if anyone listening cares what I get up to anyway."

"That's besides the point,"Rhodey gives him _that_ look, one that causes Tony to half pause in his actions.

His habits never venture far and never where they addicting, something that Tony is proud of himself because it's not easy. They never were the hard stuff, because as much as Tony is a thriving to be alcoholic - it's in his blood, it's his density for sure - and has a thing for the odd blow of weed now and again or sometimes Ecstasy whenever Ty sneaks him it, he wasn't stupid nor immature enough to do anything harder or idiotic as cocaine or heroine.

Don't get him wrong, he's had his close encounters and each and every time he's been well over his head with some type of illegal substance in his system and encouraging words whispered in his ear as they're crowded in a frat house bathroom. He's just lucky to have his guardian angel around to drag him out of those types of situations.

"Are you hungry? I bet you're hungry. I'll tell one of the chefs to cook you up something. Something small, snackish, cheese grills? Yeah okay."Tony dodges, babbling away as he grabs at Rhodey's arm."Come on, you're bunking with me."

"Of course I am."Rhodes rolls his eyes fondly, allowing himself to be dragged towards the stairs with his backpack and suitcase in tow."Doesn't your house have like 20 bedrooms?"

"Damaged from the explosion."Tony flashes his best friend a smirk over his shoulder before he's bolting up the stairs, phone appearing in his hand as he messages out the request for grilled cheeses and coffee to be sent up to his bedroom, knowing that one of the servants working tonight will bring it up.

Rhodey follows because he knows very well that there are plenty of bedrooms that were not damaged during the explosion but he says bothering more of the matter. It was evident that Tony had a thing about sleeping with someone else in the room, it claimed to make him feel safer, protected and less vulnerable, it explained why he always looked more exhausted coming back from break than going away.

"Sorry for the mess, hasn't been gutted since summer."Tony apologises because despite his attempts to clean up whenever Rhodey told him of him arriving, it still, wasn't enough to clean up the sheets of paper and forgotten mugs that once contained coffee.

"I share a dorm with you, I know how you are. As long as I've got a place to sleep, I don't care."He laughs, throwing his backpack onto the bed and having a look around the bedroom. It's a big bedroom, not overly big that there wasn't enough room but big for only one occupant and sometimes none for most of the time."So what's the plan for tonight?"

"Hmm?"Tony spins from where his mind is distracted by staring at his phone screen. He's has yet to get a reply from Steve and it was worrying away at the back of his head."Oh! Dinner starts at 8, the guests will most likely arrive by 7. They're all snobby bastards and old tarts so unfortunately you can't get laid tonight."

"You're a dick."

"I know."Tony smirks, throwing himself down into one of his chairs. The tank top hangs low at his chest, exposing he healing scars and the top of the arc reactor clearly to Rhodey."My mom has brought in a make up artist to fix my face-"

"That's more of a miracle than just make up, Tones."

"Fuck you."He pouts before he continues."You have that option too if you'd like, don't look at me like that, I know. Anyway, Jarvis is picking up your suit on his way back here, it's black, crisp and new. It'll suit you very well, I'm sure of it."

"How's your folks taking this?"

"Shit."Tony slumps in his chair, hands fiddling with the phone as he keeps peering for a message back from Steve."My mom is blaming me for her psychotic melt down and for the downfall of the company, and Howard is only finding interest in me due to the arc reactor. He'd probably rip it outta my chest if he got close enough."

"Ouch."Rhodey makes a pained sound in sympathy. It took no genius to know that Tony didn't get on well with his parents, especially his father that Tony barely spoke word about, and if he did, it was always in babbled sentences in the middle of the night after Tony was shook awake from a nightmare.

"Yeah."He sighs, spinning in the chair for a second before he pauses, glancing up at Rhodey. The older of the two is already looking his way a Tony, a soft encouraging smile on his lips."I'm really glad that you're here, Honey Bear."

"I'll always be here for you, Tones."

Time seems to fly in, with the two of them changing in the bedroom and bathroom before Tony is being dragged away for make up and returning only when the make up artist that his Mother hired has done her best to cover up the healing scars that are inflicting his face. Sulkily, Tony obliges to having his hair styled, taming the unruly nest of curls that he's been blessed with but yet his mother hates that he has.

The nerves never settle and only seem to get worse as the dinner approaches and he hears news of who will be attending from the bustling staff who pass him and Rhodey in the hallway. He knows that he shouldn't care of who will be here, but in a way that he does, these are the people that will be handling the company alongside Tony whenever Howard bites the dust and as much as Tony is an alcoholic to be, he doesn't want to be known as an asshole alcoholic like Howard.

"If my mom doesn't know who you are, don't be offended. She can barely remember that I'm her son half of the time."Tony warns, elbows hooked with Rhodey's as they walk down the staircase together, dressed in their matching crisp suits and styled to perfection by a hired stylist. He can hear the clink of champagne flutes and the chatter from the main rooms, causing his palms to sweat.

"Tony-"

"Jarvis will know of you, I'll introduce you to him. I've told him all about you."Tony smiles to himself in a fond way, remembering the way he had excitedly rang Jarvis and his Aunt Peggy about the news or actually gaining is first friend. He has sounded so much like a child, and to think, he was only 15 so that was being a child.

"All good things I hope."Rhodey smirks, causing Tony to flash him a signature Tony Stark grin.

"Of course."

With a slow pace, the pair make it towards the grand hall that's only used for dinner parties and important business meetings that Tony is usually barred from. The atmosphere changes whenever they reach the opened doors, peering into the room almost shyly as if they're on the look out for a missing friend.

Tony has that tight, fake smile on his face that Rhodey has came accustomed too, feeling the younger man tense by his side whenever he is now the centre of attention, the chattering dying down to an uncomfortable murmur.

"Anthony!"Maria Stark says almost loudly but not a shout, setting her champagne flute onto a passing tray as she gracefully makes her way towards the pair that remain standing at the door. For her sage, Maria Stark sure is beautiful in her silky red evening gown and jewels and Rhodey can see where Tony gets his good looks from.

Tony tenses whenever she sees his mom come towards him, already able to see the effects of whatever Howard has given her to 'calm her nerves' take over. She's a social butterfly, Tony knows that he gets it from her.

"You brush up handsome."Maria is pressing a gentle kiss upon Tony's cheek, her eyes lingering on the blue of the arc rector that can be seen under his shirt. It turns his stomach at the lingering stare, just wanting to curl in on himself or dash up the stairs if it wasn't for Rhodey."And who is this?"

"I'm James Rhodes, ma'am."Rhodey gives her his most polite smile, offering his hand to shake just the way that his Momma had taught him to treat ladies with respect."I'm Tony's roommate at MIT."

"How nice."Maria gives Rhodey a smile, pulling her hand away whenever the handshake ends. Her eyes catch sight of their hooked elbows, giving Tony a look with a raised eyebrow that makes him squirm because he was not going to have his Mother bring _that_ up. Not in front of Rhodey.

"Maria."Howard approaches, touching Maria's arm gently as a sign to get her attention. Tony sucks in a breath, cursing the fact that he hasn't been able to avoid interaction with Howard but maybe he can just duck away, back away and pretend to never have been standing here."Anthony."

"Howard."Tony finds himself automatically replying, looking at Howard with the same monotone expression that suggests he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Howard, this is James, A friend of Anthony's from school."Maria introduces almost proudly, smiling at her husband and then to Rhodey who offers his own polite smile in return, keeping his elbow locked with Tony's as he offers his hand for Howard to shake.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir."

"You're a friend of Anthony?"

"I am, Sir. He's a pleasure to be friends with, I can't imagine being friends with anyone else but him."Rhodey replies with honesty in his voice because he can't imagine his life without Tony now that he managed to wiggle himself into his life. It was endearing, and he loves Tony with all of his heart In a way he didn't think he'd be able to.

"Hmm."Howard hums, his eyes casting towards to Tony. There's a look in the younger Starks eyes that dares Howard to speak ill mannerly towards Rhodey, ready to lash out at the man. Howard looks like he's about to open his mouth to say something more before he decides to close it, giving his son one last look before turning his attention to this wife."Dear, there's somebody that I want to introduce you to. Come with me."

"It was lovely to meet a friend of Tony's."Maria gives Rhodey a sincere smile before she is being ushered away by Howard, he man giving his son a look that means all too much as he walks away, leaving the two where they stand.

"Are you okay?"Rhodey is quick to asking whenever Tony's parents are out of earshot of their conversation. Tony shakes off his dreading fear of the evening, looking at Rhodey with a tight fitting smile on his face.

"I'm fine, lets just get this over and done with. Yeah?"

The evening up to Dinner goes as smoothly as possible, with Tony mingle with guests and Rhodey dragged by their hooked elbows to be introduced and talk to individuals and groups that honestly don't care for their education or well being but are only here because they were given the invitation by Howard Stark to attend. Something that's seen more or less as a blessing.

Tony is never more glad to have Rhodey along side of him during their mingling, mostly because the attention was often moved off of the Arc Reactor whenever brought up, thanks to Rhodey being able to stir the conversation a different direction. And of course, not all of their interactions were overly bad or boring which also helped the entire situation.

Dinner was awkward, more for the fact that Tony had been stuck up by the head of the table along side his Mother and a member of Howards company while Rhodey had been stuck further down in between two duchesses to be. Thankfully, Maria had been distracted enough by her boss of wine and friendly conversation to notice of the phone in her Sons hands under the table as he texted Rhodey.

Shamelessly enough, Tony had still been waiting anxiously for a reply from Steve since he had send that message. In the pit of his stomach he hopes that he hasn't drawn Steve away from him simply because of his far too forward way with everything, because he knows he says things without thinking, and he knows he talks too much and maybe says things that he shouldn't. He's not good with people, unless he's drunk or high that is.

"Rhodey?"Tony calls in search for the man in question. The Second dinner had been called to an end, Tony was up like a flash to get some fresh air, to get away from the thick tension that was slowly starting to stir between himself and Howard with every ticking minute and every slurred word.

The air is crisp against his skin whenever he stands outside, the December wind blowing through his hair as he closes the front door and stands out into the gravel. He can still hear the chatter of guests from outside, the contrast of the light shining from the house against the darkness of outside.

With shaking hands, Tony is reaching into the pocket of his suit, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and cherished lighter. He pulls a cigarette out of the packet, stuffing it back into his pocket as the cigarette dangles between his lips. Leaning against the side of the brick, Tony is flicking the lighter, bringing it up to the cigarette.

"Pretty boys shouldn't smoke."He hears a gruff voice tut, causing Tony to turn his attention towards the voice. A familiar figure stands a couple of feet away from him, in a suit that costs probably the same amount as one of Howard's prized cars.

"Well I ain't pretty."Tony mutters, brining the lighter down and taking the cigarette out from between his lips. He'd been tempted, an inching feeling under his skin since he had left the hospital because he might not smoke all of the time but he did when he was anxious and right now, he was very anxious.

"That's where you're very wrong,"

"Tell me where I'm wrong."Tony sighs with a roll of his brown eyes, rolling his head to the side in a way of boredom to cast a glance at Obadiah Stane as the man approaches. He knows well of Obadiah Stane, he's had his encounters and none of them have been pleasant.

Even at a young age Obadiah had managed to make Tony chill to the bone with every side eye glance or smirk that had tugged on his lips, or the way he didn't hesitate to get into Tony's personal space whenever the two of them had been alone. They were memories that Tony often blocked our, but in a twisted type of way often _invited_.

"I've never seen a boy so capable of looking captivating even in bad publicity photos."He trails off, taking a puff of the cigar that's between his own lips."You know the ones. The coming out a club at 3am with a 30 year old guy grinding on your ass. You're lucky I keep those sort of things away from your Father."

"God help the day he finds out that his son is a slut. Oh what shall I do."Tony dramatically places a hand over his chest, holding back the cringe as his hand brushes the arc reactor before he continues."Maybe he'll cut off my credit card or worse, have to talk to me about it."

"A mouth like that won't get yourself a partner."

"A mouth like mine gets dick, Mr.Stane."Tony deadpans, looking away from the man as he scuffs the toe of his shoe into the gravel."You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"Tony raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the man who stands before him, blowing cigar smoke into his face in a way that Tony would usually punch a guy in the gut for."Howard wouldn't like his business partner touching up his only heir."

"Who says anything about touching?"

"The hand hovering over my crotch."Tony points out, his eyes casting down to where one of Obadiah's hands are hovering over Tony's clothed crotch, suddenly feeling very cornered and concealed now that the man has gotten him trapped between the brick wall and himself.

"I won't tell if you don't,"Obi almost whispers, his voice gruff in that way that makes Tony's stomach curl and turn, wanting to throw up the food he had forced himself to eat only because his Mother kept giving him concerned glances. He swallows thickly whenever Obi leans in further, a stench of expensive cigar on his clothing."And we both know that you _never_ tell."

"Tony?"Rhodey's voice calls loudly, causing Obi to flinch away and for Tony to say against the wall in relief that he had been stopped before anything further could happen. There's a curl of fear inside of Tony's stomach at the thought of being _caught_ because god knows he doesn't need anymore attention.

"Rhodey."Tony gives a tight smile of relief, his hands reaching out for Rhodey whenever the older man is in distance, grabbing at his hands. There's a look of concern washed over Rhodey's face, a look in his eyes that tells Tony they'll talk more later.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. You'd dashed so quickly from the dinning room that I didn't know where you went."Rhodey explains, giving Tony's hands a squeeze, looking between Tony and Obi."And who are you?"

"One of Howard's business partners, trying to chat me up about ideas for the company."Tony covers smoothly."He was just leaving."

"A tough nut to crack."Obi shakes his head with a dark chuckle, one that causes Tony to shiver and move closer to Rhodey in an automatic reaction for protection. He leaves rather quickly, casting a glance at Tony as he leaves, the pair remaining outside in the cold December night.

"What happened? Are you okay?"Rhodey panics, a hand resting on Tony's cheek not minding of the make up that he wears. Shakily, Tony sighs, his heart pumping in his chest as the nerves of what has happened before Rhodey arrived still running in his head, mixing with other events similar to the one before that continue to scar Tony's mind, a deep dark secret that even Rhodey doesn't know of.

"I'm fin-"

"Don't give me that 'I'm fine' bullshit, Tones. Did that man do anything to you? Because I swear, if that son of a bitch laid a hand on you, I'll rip it fucking off."Rhodey promises, a look in his eyes that shows that he means business by what he says. Shakily, Tony gives his best friend a smile, sagging into his chest for a much wanted hug because he always feels protected when he's with Rhodey,

"Just take me to bed, Rhodey."


	15. Thirteen

"Turn off that phone or snapping it in half, Punk."Bucky grumbles, half of his face buried into one of the Steves pillows, hogging most of the blankets that he has wrapped himself around. It's not even that late - depending on who you asked - but he's tired and as much as he would like to pretend that he's interested on whoever it is that Steve is texting or doing on his phone, he really doesn't give a shit.

Usually sleeping in Steves house is Bucky's place of escape, it's always a lot quieter than living in a household filled with younger little sisters and a mom that won't get off his back about this and that. Steves house has always been his place of escape, a place where he can sleep without being woken up by fingers jabbing at his sides for him to help with his little sisters maths problems and a place where he can freely eat whatever is in the fridge without being swatted or f the kitchen by his mom or judged on his eating habits.

"You do know you don't have to sleep here, Y'know. You have a perfectly good house across the fucking road."Steve mutters, fingers moving on the keyboard of his flip phone to type out a message to Tony, adding to the string of unanswered messages that he has already sent. The phone is so small inbetween Steves hands, and Bucky would laugh at the situation if he wasn't so damn pissed off.

Steve has his bottom lip worried away as he stares at the string of messages that he has sent Tony as if he's trying to find something that he had said that had been off putting. Usually, Tony was a fast replier - so fast that he's texting out more replies in the space it takes Steve to write one word - so for Tony not to reply as soon as possible, it was making Steve a little paranoid.

Of course, he has to accept the fact that Tony is home, and as much as he had said in his previous text of how his parents seemed to straight up make no fuss about his return, it didn't mean he hadn't things to do. He could be catching up on sleep, and god knows that Steve knows how much Tony likes to sleep when he can.

"You try sleeping in a house filled with chicks. I fell asleep on the sofa once and woke up with a fucking manicure. My nails were fucking purple for 2 weeks."He grumbles into the pillow, shifting so that even though half of his face was stuffed into the pillow, his body is turned towards where Steve is sitting up on the bed, beside lamp flicked on and Cheeto packets lining the floor.

"I know. Purple is so _not_ your colour. Tell Rebecca to paint them silver next time."Steve smirks, cursing whenever Bucky lands a punch to his thigh. Despite the punch, Steve still has his focus directed to the screen of his mobile, thumbs moving to type out another message to Tony to see how he is.

"This kid must be something special because you've been glued to that mobile since I climbed through your window."Bucky points out, prompting himself up onto his elbow to try and take a glance at Steves phone. His eyes widen at the the string of messages that Steve has sent yet receiving none in return."Or maybe you're just obsessed."

"He usually texts back really quick."Steve frowns, creases in his forehead that Bucky forever teases him about that gives him an older look than he actually is. Steves phone usually lays dormant in his bedside drawer, but since befriending Tony it seems to be attached to him and as much as it's good to see him socialising, it was starting to get increasingly weird to see Steve _text_.

"I mean, it is 3am. Maybe he's lucky enough to be fucking _sleeping_."Bucky glares, icy cold blue eyes narrowed at Steve because for god sake. Sleep is important to Bucky, and if he doesn't get at least 8 hours of sleep he'll snap someone's neck."If you're that fucking worried, go to his house and check on him."

"I don't know where he lives."Steve frowns, closing his phone with a satisfying snap. Bucky sleepily raises his eyebrow at the blonde."Okay well I know that he lives in Long Island."

"Yes, that narrows it down to a 7 million population."

"Look, I don't know _that_ much about him. We've only been talking for like 3 weeks?"

"By three weeks I had the key to your house."Bucky deadpans, a smirk on his lips. It had actually belonged to his Mom after Sarah had gave it to her incase of emergency. Bucky had quickly stolen the key not even 3 weeks after his friendship with Steve had blossomed and still remains with it around his neck to his day, along with housekeys to everyone else's homes as well.

_Friendship!_

"Whatever. I'm taking Bruce's advice and not coming off _too_ strong."

"Okay you."Bucky rolls his eyes in annoyance because there was no use in telling Steve any advice on how to text the babe that he's so obviously sweet on. Sitting up, Bucky holds his hand out for Steves phone."Gimme the phone. I want to see the babe you're sweet on."

"I'm not sweet on him!"

"Save your breath, punk."Bucky is snatching the phone out of Steves fumbling hands before the blonde can protest, rubbing at his eyes tiredly because it doesn't look like he's getting any sleep any time soon. He flips the phone, working his way to find Steves photo album as the blonde bites his bottom lip, watching his best friend.

Bucky' face lights up in shock as he finds the most recent saved photograph of Tony, sent by Tony himself with a cocky caption. It a photograph still taken in hospital with Tony pulling what Bucky can only describe as a bored face, lips pouted out and glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a messy nest of curls, uncaring of his presentation, soft brown eyes hidden behind the glass of his glasses.

"Nothing special."Bucky shrugs, handing the phone back to Steve remaining with his cheeks tinted a cute shade of pink.

"You're only sayin' that because you aren't gay."Steve rolls his eyes, glancing at the photograph of Tony that he has saved to his phone. It's a cute photograph of Tony and it makes him blush every time that he thinks that.

"I don't have to be gay to appreciate how attractive another man is."Bucky rolls his shoulders in a stretch.

"Well your opinion is invalid."Steve scoffs, throwing his mobile onto the bedside table as he stretches himself, a groan escaping his lips."I'm going to the kitchen, you want anything?"

Walking into the kitchen together, Bucky sluggishly hops onto the kitchen counter, rubbing at his eyes grumpily as Steve moves around the kitchen in search for ingredients to make French toast. It wasn't as much of an odd request as you would expect, more times than enough was Steve making different foods at odd times in the morning for his best friends, especially seeing as he was one of the only who could cook.

That's not to say that everyone else is useless in the cooking department because as much as Bucky loves to deny the fact, he's an excellent baker and Natasha has some recipes up her sleeve. And coming from a rather close knit family, Thor's family were keen on massive amounts of food too, usually bringing in left over from the night before for the rest of the crowd.

Steve has always had a love for cooking, as a child he had spent a lot of his time with his Grandmother who often taught him in the ins and outs of cooking, and later as he spent time on his own, he cooked his own food when his mom was working late. He even cooked her food as well, ready in the microwave to be heated up.

"So when are we gonna meet your new babe."It's not much of a question, more of a demand if anything because of course Steve is going to introduce Tony to the group, they're his best friends, the people he grew up with. And as much as Steve is his own person, Tony needs the best friend seal of approval.

"Uh, some day, yeah."Steve scratches the back of his head awkwardly, opening the fridge as he rummages for eggs."Tony is a busy person. He's just out of hospital, Buck. And he starts second term next week in MIT."

"MIT? How old is the kid again?"

"16. He's a fucking genius, Buck. You have no idea how incredibly intelligent he is."Steve swoons, cracking eggs into the mixing bowl and throwing the shells into the bin."The last time I was up, I was helping him pack, and he was showing me these blueprints for this new Arc Reactor that he was designing and of course I have no idea what he was talking about when he went into detail but it's so _amazing_."

"Sounds like a smart kid."Bucky mutters a little sourly, catching onto the admiration in Steves tone. Taking a bite out of his apple, Bucky continues."So invite him over this week. Bring him to video game night."

"Uh, yeah. I'll ask him."Dipping the bread into the whisked eggs, Steve places them into the headed up pan.

It's not as if Steve _doesn't_ want Tony to meet his friends, because of course he does, just now doesn't seem the most appropriate of times. Tony is just out of hospital, he's spending som time at home with his family before he's going back to MIT for months. It doesn't seem like the right time to be shoving the idea of meeting his peers in his face.

It also doesn't help his case that they can be a bit overpowering. There's nothing that Steve can do about that because it's their personalities, who they are and Steve loves them for who they are and wouldn't change a thing in the world about them. What Steve doesn't have to fear is the group judging Tony for being that much of an outsider, none of them have the right to judge and neither of them would.

"Clint says that he's up for video game night this week as long as we play COD."Bucky announces, typing away at his own mobile phone that he had stashed in the waist band of his pyjama bottoms, his half eaten apple remaining in his other hand."But it's Bruce's turn to pick this week so we'll probably end up playing fucking Minecraft."

"What about Mario Kart?"

"We aren't gonna spend Video Game night playing fucking Mario Kart."Bucky deadpans, sending Steve a deathly look. Mario Kart never ends well, with usually the console thrown out the window by Thor and Clint being sulky over his 4th consecutive loss."Clint also says no to Mario Kart."

"We'll decide on the night. Maybe even let Tony pick?"Steve plates the finished French toast, already putting on another round for himself. He slides the plate across the counter, hitting Bucky's thigh."Enjoy, Jerk."

"Thanks, Punk."


	16. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony likes the company of his own, and if not on his own, then the bots back in his workshop at MIT or Rhodey on those days that he needs the comfort and attention. Sure, he liked that Steve came up the hospital to visit him, and the texting but that's different. Steve is different, he looks at Tony different, treats him different and that's what Tony likes about him. He just isn't sure that he'll like his friends.
> 
> Or worse still; that his friends like him.

It's a cold night, and really, it shouldn't be surprising that it is since it's usually so cold in New York, a coldness that Tony has gotten use to despite the state of the arc heating system that Howard had installed since Maria had a hatred for anything cold, which was ironic to say the least since she was married to a man who knew nothing more but being cold, cold hearted, cold blooded.

And sometimes, Tony would like to think that the man that his mother married was not how he turned out to be, that he had once been charming and handsome, sweeping ladies off of their feet with a charming smile and a flirty comment. A man that didn't spend all his free time drinking until a slumber, or shouting slurs across an empty house to a son who has done nothing in life but try to live up to his fathers expectations, and in which he failed to do.

But of course, that was a man that Tony had never met, a stranger that's only remembered in newspaper clippings and neatly kept scrapbooks that Maria Stark has kept treasured in the library for years. Now, the Man that was once, has been replaced with one that Maria has had to grown to get use to, and a man that Tony wishes that he never knew.

But back to it being cold, it's a type of cold that Tony can feel all the way to his bones, staring at his finger tips, at his toes and causing a deep shiver to run up his spine, but he doesn't mind. In a way, he likes the cold, the type of bitter coldness that you only get during a winter night in New York, it's one of the few things that he likes about being back in New York.

It makes him feel alive, with the way that the icy wind would nip at his bare skin, cause the goosebumps to rise across his skin, or the way that it blows in his face and wakens a usually exhausted Tony into a conscious state. It's freshening, it wakens him up and makes him feel.

It's where he finds himself now, bundled out on the balcony that leads from his bedroom, overlooking the fields of covered green that now is blanked with a layer of white snow that surrounds Stark Mansion. The concert Balcony is almost colder than the wind that's gushing into the side of Tony's face from where he's sitting down on the concert floor, his duvet draped around him, cocooning him with a warmth.

The New Years midnight excitement has now disappeared into the night sky, but it wasn't as if Tony had did anything spectacular the celebrate the night anyway, he usually never does unlike his Parents who had already left that morning to spend a week or two on one of the islands that they own in the Caribbean. So Tony was left on his own, just like he is every New Years, with nothing but the bitter cold of New York and the glow of the arc reactor to keep him company.

Rhodey hadn't stayed long, and Tony didn't expect him to either, and in a way he didn't want him to stay long either. He knows that Mama Rhodes wants him home before he's back off to MIT and Tony may miss his company, crave him attention and touch - because it's moments like these, where he's alone in the cold that he needs that familiar touch and attention - he's not going to get in the way of Rhodey and his Family.

It's worse still when Tony realises how clingy he has gotten over the last couple of days, especially after the night of the Dinner Party, where the memories of what happened after still linger in his foggy mind, the touches ghost like against his skin. And he can still remember the way that he has smirked at him, spoke to him in that way that he has so many times before, contrasted against the way that Rhodey had looked at him in concern and held him tight that night whenever Tony wouldn't stop shaking and refused to talk.

Because Tony never talks, everyone knows that.

And Rhodey knows that, he knows that when Tony makes up his mind then that is that, and if Tony isn't going to speak then he has to deal with that, and instead make up to him with the soft touches and attention that he knows Tony craves. Because he's a good friend, he best of friend that Tony could ask for, and it pains him to watch him walk through the airport security away from him, with nothing but a murmur to text him and a promise to meet him at the airport.

"Hey Aunt Peggy. I know you're unable to answer the phone right now, you're probably busy, but I just wanted to Wish you a Happy New Years, like I do every New Years, because I guess that's the normal thing to do. And yeah, I don't know, that's it I guess. And I miss you, don't be a stranger. It's Tony by the way, but I guess you knew that already, so um, bye and Happy New Years, again."

He didn't expect her to answer anyway, she rarely does nowadays and that's okay, Tony knows that he's busy with her job since her promotion, but it does still hurt that Tony seems to be the only person that reaches out and never receives a reply in return.

Peggy Carter was a massive part of Tony's life, from the minute that he had been born, Tony had spent more time in his Aunt Peggy's arms than his own Mothers. She had carried him on his shoulders through shopping centres, took him to the park, was at all of his Science fairs and took him traveling during the school holidays. Peggy Carter was his Godmother, his only childhood friend and it has hurt when she exited his life.

But he doesn't blame her. Peggy had gotten a promotion, realised that she had to do something more in her life than hanging around New York all of the time, so she moved with her promotion to Washington and started up her new life, away from Tony, and away from all of her old memories. That didn't mean he hadn't seen her or heard from her, because Tony did, just not as much as he wishes, especially during the times that he really needed her.

Tony flinches whenever his phone starts to ring, an unknown caller trying to Video call him which makes Tony's face frown. As much as he is a flirt, Tony is always careful of who he gives his phone number to and surprisingly, only a few people actually have his phone number which Tony is okay with because he'd rather have a few than everybody.

He lets it ring off with the possibility that it could be a drunken Ty Stone attempting to video call him, something that he has a habit of doing at this time of night. Tony wouldn't say that Tiberius Stone is the worse of people in the world -  Because Howard and Obi probably make the top of his list - but he isn't the best, and he defiantly isn't one of Tony Starks favourites.

By the third attempt video call, Tony is pressing accept with his thumb covering over the front camera lens as a friendly, familiar face is popping up on the screen of his Stark Phone. It's a face that makes Tony self-conscious start to smile because it's been a while since he's seen this face and he's only realising now just how much that he's missed it.

"Tony!"Steve's always soft, always conceding voice is greeting through the phone. He's in a party type atmosphere, just like any Teenager would usually be on a New Years with his possible friends hanging off of his arms as he tries to move through the crowd to talk better.

"Steve."Tony is letting out a breath that he didn't even know that he was holding, one that follows with a smile that he only seems to smile when he's around Steve, that warm type of smile that's usually accompanied with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

"I can't see you! Move your thumb away from the camera!"Steve is shouting over the music to be heard, that stupid grin still on his face that never fails to make Tony feel all warm and tingly on the inside.

"Oh, fuck sorry."Tony is moving his thumb away from the front camera in awareness with a bush on his cheeks at the stupidity of it all."I was covering my identity."

"What are you, a superhero?"Steve laughs, holding the phone a little too close to his face as he tries to shuffle through the crowds of people that have found their way into Natasha's home. It was supposed to be a quiet New Years party with just their inner circle, which ended up - because Thor has a big mouth - as a full blown party that Steve wishes he hadn't gotten involved with.

"I could be. You haven't known me that long, I could be a serial killer for all you know."Tony Smirks as he settles against the concrete pillar of the balcony behind him, wrapping the duvet cover tighter around himself. It's strange, because Steve doesn't know him that long, and he especially doesn't know just how rich that Tony is.

"And I'm a secret agent."Steve rolls his eyes in amusement.

"What are you implying?"Tony raises his eyebrow at the blonde, feeling defensive at the thought that Steve is implying something.

"That you don't have the potential to be a serial killer. You couldn't hurt a fly."

"I could try."

"But you wouldn't."

"You don't know me."

"Okay, you're right. I don't know you and I'd like to change that."Steve admits as he finally makes his way outside, taking a seat on what is left of the brick wall in Natasha's front garden. Steve can still remember the incident in which caused the broken wall, of how Clint had dared Thor to juggle Natasha's fathers prized bowling balls in which it ended with a broken front wall after dropping them all.

"And how do you plan on doing that?"Tony asks almost quietly, watching as Steve smiles at him through the camera.

"I'd like for you to come down to Brooklyn, before you leave to go back to MIT, and spend the day with me. And my friends."Steve adds onto the end, something that makes Tony's smile flatter and for the butterflies in his stomach to stop for some odd reason because he shouldn't have been expecting _anything_ other than that.

"Yeah, um, I don't know Steve-"Because it's one thing being friends with someone outside of his comfort zone - and Steve is so far out of his comfort zone that he might as well be on Mars - but it's even worse meeting new people. Tony might be the worlds biggest social butterfly but that doesn't mean he enjoys the company of others because he _doesn't_.

He's grown up in large crowds, forced to Dinner parties and shoved into Boarding school dorms with other kids that only wanted to get close to him because their parents found out who is father was, and he got use to that. And even now, at an age where he spends his college days stuck in an overpriced club on a guys lap for hours, he's gotten use to that to, but mostly now it's because he's too intoxicated to care.

Tony likes the company of his own, and if not on his own, then the bots back in his workshop at MIT or Rhodey on those days that he needs the comfort and attention. Sure, he liked that Steve came up the hospital to visit him, and the texting but that's different. Steve is different, he looks at Tony different, treats him different and that's what Tony likes about him. He just isn't sure that he'll like his friends.

Or worse still; that his friends like him.

"Tony. I might be blonde, but I'm not stupid."

"Doesn't that saying only work for women?"Tony rhetorically asks, fully expecting the glare that Steve gives him."Or so I hear?"

"Come. Please. My friends would love to meet you, they've been pestering me about it for ages now."Steve continues with his own blush coating his cheeks, something that Tony brushes off as the cold wind that Steve is getting from being outside. The music from the party is still blasting some latest pop anthem that neither Tony or Steve know of.

"You talked about me? To your friends?"Tony says quietly, playing with the draw strings of his hoodie as he avoids looking at Steve, for some reading feeling embarrassed about the whole situation.

"I mean, yeah? I guess I had to, They were my ride to the hospital most of the time, and Bucky kind of stole my phone and saw all of our messages so there's that too. Secrets don't stay secrets in my friend group."Steve admits, scratching the back of his neck as he blushes."But yeah, you should come down to Brooklyn. The next night we're all hanging out is game night if you want to come."

"I'll think about it. Thank you for the invite."Tony decides just to go with it, seeing as Steve doesn't seem like the type of person to just give up, being the stubborn bastard that he seems to be. In a way, Tony finds it charming, just as much as it's annoying. After a couple of moments of silence, Tony speaks up."You don't seem like the party type of guy."

"I'm not."Steve deadpans, casting a glance back at the house and then back to the camera so that he can see Tony. He had stolen Phils phone to be able to video call Tony, seeing as his phone was unable to do that and that he wanted to wish Tony a Happy New Years face to face as best as he could."Somebody opened their mouth about a free house and eventually the entire school found out."

"Party's are lame, wait until you get into clubs. It's far more intense."

"You're 16."Steve deadpans, looking unamused with the fact that Tony has access into clubs at such a young age, younger than him by at least a year."How do you possibly have access into clubs?"

"I have connections. And older friends which helps."And that's a bit of a stretch, because they aren't his friends, their his fuckbuddies of the night, the laps that his ass will make home for for the rest of the night but that's as friendly as people get when they're in college.

"I don't think I'll experience that type of life, anyway."Steve shrugs his shoulders, looking away from Tony whenever he hears a crash from inside of the house, followed by Clint stumbling out through the open front door and onto the decking. He's drunk, and anyone would be with the way he has been drinking all night."Fuck."

"What's wrong? Is everything alright?"Tony asks in alert whenever he hears Steve curse, almost wishing he was there to see what Steve sees.

"Yeah, I mean kind of. It's just Clint, drunk."Steve pitches Tony in just in time for Clint to belt out Steve's name.

"Stevie! There you a-"Hiccup,"-re!"He's stumbling his way down the steps, nearly toppling over into the bushes as he sways to the side. There's already the loss of his hearing aids and Clint is too drunk to lipread.

"Clint-"

"Ohmygod, is this Tony! Tony, Tony Tony."Clint gasps whenever he's found himself draped over Steve's shoulder, staring at the Brown eyed teenager through the screen, patting at Steve's face."He's so pretty, Steve! So so so so pretty."Clint sings.

"Okay and I think this is an excellent time to say goodbye."Tony is blushing, trying to find anyway to end this conversation before Steve can figure out how much that Tony is affected by this."Take him to bed, not literal, but you know what I mean. Before he hurts himself."

"Good idea."Steve nods, not even minding whenever Clint is basically nuzzling his face into Steve's and mutters of his pretty that Tony looks, something that makes Steve warm all over."I bid you goodnight."

"You bid me?"Tony raises his eyebrow fondly with a laugh.

"Shut up."The blonde rolls his blue eyes at Tony in fondness."Get some sleep, you look like you need it. And a Happy New Years, Tony."


	17. Chapter Fifteen

For once in his life, Tony Stark is early, which is something that never happens because usually, the places that Tony is being dragged to or being forced to go to are places that Tony would rather be dead than alive to be in, and usually with that, that means that arriving fashionably late gives Tony Stark the best type of entrance to any party or club.

Today however, it's different, because Tony actually kind of wants to go to Steve's house - because after a lot of dwelling and ranting to Jarvis who would rather see Tony going out than staying in, Tony had decided to actually go to Steve's house - and that's weird. Because Tony never wants to go anywhere, no matter how the media portray's the teenager as a social butterfly and never out of social interactions, Tony prefers the comfort of himself, _and_ Rhodey.

But this is Steve. Wonderful, big hearted and kind Steve. Who goes out of his way to make sure that Tony is comfortable - because he never stares at his arc reactor, or brings it up in conversations whenever he noticed how insecure Tony was about it- and is on a constant text alert for Tony to text him. No matter what time of the day that it is.

Which is odd. Because it's not like Tony doesn't like the extra affection and friendship, because he does, it just doesn't settle with Tony in a sorta guilty way. Tony knows why, he knows it's because Tony feels guilty that Steve doesn't know the real him, that he doesn't know of the money that he had stashed in his savings accounts or the empire company that he'll inherit whenever Howard dies - and Obi as well.

But he'll tell him. Just not yet, but soon.

Taking one of Howard's cars - the most basic and less expensive car that Tony can find in the underground garage that was not destroyed by the explosion - was an easy task, and Tony trusts Jarvis enough not to squeal on the young stark of the house on Howard as he takes the drive from Long Island to Brooklyn.

It's a long drive, and Tony makes sure that he's pilled the back seats with food and drink because if there's one thing that his parents have taught him, it's that he can't show up to somebodies house empty handed - and he takes that to his grave, whether the gift to the house is a candle, food or cocaine.

"21...23...25...There it is! 27!"Tony cheers to himself, the car moving a slow speed down the smooth road, trying his best to dodge kids that are running out onto the road for their stray ball. Tony isn't use to seeing children out in the streets playing and having fun, and there's something warm in his chest to see that the cold and snow outside only increases their enthusiasm about playing outside in the snow.

Steve's neighbour is straight out of day time television show. The houses are almost so similar if it wasn't for the difference in cars, the colour of doors or what's in their front lawn, and the hosted are fairly small from the outside but Tony expects them to be larger on the inside. But they're nice, the homes actually look like _homes_.

It reminds Tony of the Rhodes neighbourhood, although the houses are a lot bigger and probably cost a lot more, but it was obvious that they were homes that people lived in, from the newly planted flowers in the flowerbeds to a football forgotten in the drive away.

Tony is pulling into the empty slot in Steve's driveway, up beside a beat up silver hyundai that's missing it's left side wing mirror. Suddenly, Tony feels incredibly out of place with driving Howard's beautiful red sports car in a neighbourhood like this. He's basically screaming that he's not more money than enough.

"Stop being so panicky. Nobody will suspect a thing."Tony grumbles to himself as he turns on the ignition and starts to unbuckle his seatbelt. It's been a miracle that he's gotten this far without Steve suspecting a thing, but then again, Steve doesn't look like the type of person who would be interested in weapon manufactural - something Tony _hopes_ to change whenever he takes over.

After a couple of minutes of prepping himself to get out of the car, Tony is collecting the bags of food and drink out from the backseat and closing the car door shut with a bump of his hip, the car locking automatically. Reaching Steve's front door, Tony can feel the nervousness and panic start to settle at the bottom of his stomach again, and that reminds him;

Did he take his medication? And did he bring extra medication incase he spends the night? And what if he spends the next day as well? What if he runs out? Fuck maybe he should just turn around and go back home because knowing Tony he probably forgot and if he forgot then the risk or something going dramatically wrong is very very high-

"Tony!"And that one sound of his name, in that sweet familiar voice manages to make all of Tony's worrying thoughts disappear, melting the tension and the worry from his face as he's greeted with the welcoming grin that's plastered on Steve's face.

And fuck, isn't he a beautiful sight? With his soft naturally blonde hair and beautiful crystal blue eyes that Tony could get lost in if he stared for to much. There's not a cut or mark on Steve's face, bruising and stitches haven't healed from his last fight and not even a blemish on his smooth porcelain skin.

"Steve."Tony breathes our breathlessly with the smallest of smiles, playing it off as being breathless from the weight of the bags that he's carrying. Even in just jeans and a too tight of a jumper - it's Christmas theme and somebody wearing a Christmas themed jumper shouldn't be _that hot_ \- Steve is looking amazing.

"You're early."Steve notes but he doesn't seem annoyed by the fact, instead the smile only seems to get bigger and Tony curses the fact that he can feel his face beaten with a blush to know that he's the possible reason behind that smile.

"I am?"Tony questions, rummaging the bags so that he can reach for his phone in the pocket of his favourite MIT hoodie - which doesn't even belong to him and is in fact Rhodeys, evident from the musky cologne smell - and he frowns at the time because he's extremely fucking early."Fuck, I didn't realise. I must've sped here without knowing, I'm a speedy driver-"

"Hey, no, it's all good! You can help me set things up, fuck knows that my friends won't."Steve reassures with a laugh."Oh, here, shit let me take the bags. Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable, god knows everyone else does."

Steve is taking the bags off of Tony and Tony can't help but to stare just a little at the way that Steve's muscles flex at the new weight and god, why is he only noticing now of how much muscle that Steve has?

As gentlemanly as ever, Steve is taking the bags and moving out of the doorway to let Tony into the house and it's just as Tony expects it to be. A home. A properly lived in home with pictures of Steve and some of his friends hanging on the walls, with freshly cleaned clothes waiting in a laundry basket at the bottom stairs to be taken into the wardrobes and that warm, home like smell that lingers on the clothes and the furnitures.

Tony can feel a feeling of unsettle in the pit of his stomach as he comes to the realisation that he's technically 'gate crashing' a friend get together night. He knows that Steve invited him, but he wonders if his friends were comfortable with the idea, and if they weren't, how would they react with having Tony hanging around on a night that's only for best friends, not no good strangers from Long Island.

Maybe he should just go before they show up,  make up some family emergency excuse or-

"What all did you bring?"Steve exclaims as he carries the heavy bags filled with food, pulling Tony out of his panicked thoughts as they stand in the hallway.

"Oh, um, just some stuff. Like food."

"It feels like you bought the entire store."

"I might've,"Tony gives him a coy smile as he follows after Steve towards the kitchen to set the bags on the counter for later."People tell me that I have a tendency of going a little overboard when it comes to buying people gifts. And I couldn't come to your house without a gift, so there's that too."

"It must've cost you a lot."Steve frowns over at him as he sets the bags on the counter.

"It's fine, it's fine. I, uh, have a part time job on campus."Tony lies whenever Steve continues to give him that 'You shouldn't spend money on wasted food' type of look that makes Tony regret bringing food now."It's at this coffee shop, it's nice, I guess. My co-workers are cute which helps all the same."

Which isn't exactly a lie because for a solid month whenever he was being extra bratty, Howard had cut off his credit card and he had to work for his money. Luckily enough, as a loyal and regular customer, the campus coffee house has offered him a job until he needed it. As much as Tony hated the idea of working, the perks of getting free coffee and working with incredibly cute - older - guys was totally worth it.

"Gals?"

"Guys."Tony bluntly replies, taking out a bag of crisps from one of the many food bags that has been set on the counter. He watches the way that Steve's ears go extremely pink with a blush and Tony worries that maybe this is the hypothetical problem that Tony has been trying to suss out from the start because Steve is too much of a good guy and maybe his flaw is that he's homophobic.

But he hardly doubts that. With all of the flirting that Tony has been doing, he's sure that Steve would've said something by now.

"And please tell me that we aren't going to be playing some noob game, tonight. If I come for a video game night, I expect angry yelling and consoles thrown out of the window."Tony is quickly changing the subject, opening the bag of crisps and leaning against the counter as Steve overcomes his blush and silence.

"There will be _no_ consoles being thrown out the window, Tony"

"Ha! You've obviously never played video games with me and Rhodey. He tries to tell me that I'm a sore loser, which I'm not by the way so don't be fooled by my act of acting like I am, when he got so angry that he kept getting killed that he threw my PlayStation out the window. I made him climb out our door window in the rain to retrieve it."

"He sounds...melodramatic?"Steve bites back a laugh, coming back to himself which Tony is thankful of. He doesn't want to dwell on his sexuality, it isn't a thing that Tony himself really swells on either.

"Oh, he is. He thinks that he's the most chill guy in the world, but he isn't. And he's like super overprotective as well, in that type of endearing friendship type of way that does my head in but I wouldn't change it for the world? And I guess, if it wasn't for Rhodey pulling my ass outta situations I'd be dead by now."Tony shrugs, stuffing a handful of crisps into his mouth.

"What do you mean by situations-"

"Enough about Rhodey! Your friends! What do I need to know about your friends?"Tony is changing the subject swiftly as he looks over at Steve, leaning further back into the counter as if it will make the moment any less awkward, instead it just makes his chest seem to stick out further and show off the arc factor under his hoodie more prominently in the kitchen lighting.

"Not a lot, I guess."Steve shrugs, fiddling with his hands."There's Bucky, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Natasha and Phil. I'll introduce you to them all whenever they arrive. Phil and Clint are dating-"

Tony's nerves immediately calm down with that statement that Steve is obviously not homophobic if two of his best friends are dating. _Thank god_.

"-And will be will be arriving together, even though Clint would be late to his own funeral, Phil is extremely punctual. Natasha shows up whenever she likes and you might not even know that she's hear because she's crafty at making an entrance without actually making an entrance.   
Thor is possibly bringing Bruce with him, I'm not sure, and Bucky lives across the road but he'll be the past one here, I'm sure of it."

"That's, that's a pretty large bunch."Tony swallows thickly, glad to have the bag of crisps in his hands to fiddle with, something that only makes his nerves more known to Steve who looks on with a frown of concern.

"Everything will be fine. I mean, they are overwhelming and forward but they don't mean any harm and I'll be looking out for you to make sure you're comfortable, alright?"

"You're too sweet, Steve."Tony gives Steve the smile, a smile that Tony only has reserved for the people that deserve it, a blush dashing across the high cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose as he looks on at Steve.

"Just looking out for a friend."and despite the smile that graces Steve's beautiful face, Tony can't help but he let his flatters just slightly.

_Yeah, friend._


	18. Chapter Sixteen

Being good with people isn't on the top of Tony's agenda, and that's mostly for the fact that Tony Stark may be a social butterfly but that does _not_ mean that he is good with people. There's a reason why Tony has shaved down the number of people that he interacts with on a daily basis to 3 people ( and even at that, apparently Butterfingers doesn't even count as people because _"Robots aren't people, Tony!"_ )

It's not like Tony doesn't like people - because yes, he's a teenager and no, lets not refer to the common belief that all teenagers hate _everyone_ \- because in retrospect, he actually _does_ like a lot of people. Tony has just never presses the right impression onto people, especially people that know _of_ him or _through_ him and even worse the type of people that do only want to get to know him so they can have access to SI secrets and maybe a piece of Tony's little body while they're at it.

A prime example of people like that are Tiberius Stone, a fellow MIT student 5 years older than what Tony is. It hadn't taken long for Tony to understand that all of Tiberius's flirty gestures and free drinks was all for the sake of getting into Tony's pants, all and hoping for Tony to scream out SI secrets in bed. It was a pity that Tony found out that Ty was a spy for his own father, especially when he's so hot.

Although, it didn't stop Tony from enjoying the fun while it was being handed to him, he always just made sure to never end up in bed with him, or even yet, let him in the dorm or workshop. It works out, because Ty Stone is non the wiser that Tony knows who he is and Tony gets his unlimited supply of illegal drugs.

Turns out, Steve's friends aren't as bad as Tony had feared, mostly because Steve barely lets any of them utter a word as he introduces Tony to them individually like Tony is some sort of prized poodle that has to be shown off.

"You doing okay?"Steve comes up behind Tony unexpectedly in the kitchen. He'd gotten up to get himself a drink in an act to clear his head and to get away from the commotion of so many people gathered in the livingroom. 5 people actually. Tony, Steve, Thor, Natasha and James.

He was introduced to Thor first who seems like a decent guy, even if he does talk like there's a megaphone stuck in his throat and seems to have no personal space boundaries. But it was good, Tony didn't want to meet anyone would be dancing around him, unsure what to say and Thor didn't seem like the guy that would anyway.

James ( which by the way, Tony already knows a James and doesn't need to know another one but whatever ) had been less comforting, more in the sense that he had been sulking in a corner for a good part of an hour before Tony had noticed him. James looked like the kind of kid that would've hissed at you in elementary school but is now hot and emo in his teen years.

Natasha had been unnerving, although strangely kind and almost sympathetic whenever she had approached Tony, as if she could see everything that he's been through and more. It was unsettling to say the least but she hadn't brought anything up and instead thrusted a bottle of vodka into his hands with a smile and left to annoy James.

"Steve, you don't have to follow me _everywhere_ that I go."Tony tries for a smile but it was getting a little annoying to have Steve jumping up from the sofa every time Tony went to cross his legs or following him from the livingroom to the kitchen.

"I know, I know, I'm just trying to be a good host."Steve explains, his face tinged pink in embarrassment. He really does want Tony to have a good time tonight, not only on his part but also for the sake of the whole group.

"And you are. Your friends mean no harm, I mean okay I know that James hates me and Natasha is a little unnerving but it's fine, they're fine."Tony shrugs his shoulders, opening the sods cam and taking a drink from it.

"Bucky doesn't hate you! He's just..."

"Emo?"

"Jealous was more the word I was looking for but..."Steve pulls a face, leaning against the fridge and making it shift in its place, something that makes Tony's eyes widen. Standing in the small kitchen makes Steve look even larger than what Tony thought he was and okay, Tony might have a thing for blondes with muscles, sue him.

_Chill it Stark_

"Jealous?"The _of me_ is silent but there as he looks at Steve wide eyed and confused because what is there to be jealous of? Not in the sense that Tony isn't attractive because he damn well knows that he is, but James isn't too bad looking either, and dare Tony say it even _better_ looking. And yeah okay, apart from scrape ups, a couple of scars and the arc reactor built into his chest, Tony has a pretty good body of muscles himself.

" I don't kno-"

"Holy shit! Who owns that bitching car outside!"A shrill voice is screaming throughout the house, followed by a chorus of 'shut up's and harsher profanities which the voice obviously doesn't give a crap about as he continues on."It's a v12 Aston Martin, don't shush me!"

"It's mine actually."Tony chimes, making himself known in the livingroom where 3 new guests stand. The shouting blonde spins to turn his attention to Tony, mouth agape at the confession because Clint may have a thing for cars, very cool sport cars to be exact."Well my dad's car, so it's kind of mine."

"It is so fucking beautiful."Clint whispers in awe, wide eyed at Tony who shrugs his shoulders, going to dig around in the pockets of his jeans for the car keys, throwing them at the blonde with a shrug and a smile.

"Take it for a spin around the block if you want."Tony offers because if this guy is more interested in the car than Tony is, somebody might as well enjoy it. The look of happiness that beams over Clints face is almost manic before he turns and runs out the open door without a second thought to anyone else in the room or a thank you.

"That's us never seeing Clint again."Phil dumps his dufflebag by the couch before falling onto it, stretching out his limbs tiredly. Sleep is the only thing on his mind right now, sleep and coffee if he's being honest but a video game night never concludes with sleep and therefore, he's fucked in that department.

"Unless he comes back in handcuffs, that is. He's going to drive your beautiful car through a warehouse, he'll be all over the news."Bruce sighs, directing his attention to Tony and then to the rest.

"Well Clint will love that, he thrives to be famous. His only ambition in life is to be famously known for some hideous prank that will probably cost the lives of millions."Natasha stretches out on the couch beside James ( _"Only friends call me Bucky."_ ), her finger nails scratching at his scalp.

"There are worse ways to be famous, y'know."

"There are also better ways."Thor says from his place on the ground, trying to connect the PlayStation to Steve's television which always seems like a difficult situation even though it's something that happens at least three times a month.

"You get remembered for the things you did badly, not the ones you did good. Take Hitler for example, we remember him for being at fault for the Holocaust, but nobody ever remembers him as the artist."Tony shrugs his shoulder, sitting on the edge of the sofa that Phil had collapsed on.

It's a weird conversion starter but he guesses he can go with the flow. Tony has been stuck in worse and weirder conversations before and this is by far the best on that list.

"Okay lets not compare Clint to _Hitler_."Steve glares at everyone but especially at Tony for dragging along the conversation. Tony just shrugs his shoulders and snickers into his can of soda because when Steve tries and acts all father like it's actually kind of amusing."And the reason why nobody remembered Hitler as an artist is because he couldn't even draw a stickman."

"Stevie over here thinks he's the best artist around since Picasso."

"Picasso' paintings focused on cubism, collage work if you will. I focus more on still life or realism."Steve mutters bashfully from his place in the doorframe of the connection to and from the livingroom and kitchen. Tony bites his lip at the way that Steve brushes all over, it's adorable how bashful he can be.

"Well I'd love to see your drawings some time."

"Nobody ever sees his drawings. They're sacred."Bruce mutters, pushing up his glasses as he looks at Tony with a hand outstretched."Bruce Banner."

"Tony Stark."Tony grins, a smile that he only brings out when he has to be extra polite and greet people welcomingly. It's dazzling and charming, just like everything else is about Tony Stark. Bruce seems to hesitate as he goes to shake Tony's hand, looking like he has something to say and Tony swears that his heart nearly stops beating in his chest for that moment.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but your arc reactor..."

"What about it?"Tony asks because he's heard more than enough questions about it. He'd been dragged around his parents party like a rag doll, poked and prodded by wondering fingers and pushy old bastards. _How does it keep you alive? How much was it? What material is it made out of? How long will it keep you alive until you die?_

Okay, Tony is making the last one up but he swears he heard one of Howard's business partners ask that to Howard behind his back.

"Did you design the specs yourself? I had done research awhile ago on Paladium but I was never able to wrap my head around it."

"What makes you think I designed it myself?"

"I know intelligence when I see it, Tony."And it's then that Tony's stomach sinks at the realisation that Bruce _knows_ who he is, that he knows of his father, his intelligence, his name, his worth. And Tony isn't sure what to do about it because what is there to do about it? The thing is, Bruce just smiles at him, gives him a wink in a way that almost says _I'll keep your secret safe._

"I didn't, but I'm working on improving the element. Research shows that paladium in the long run give off more bad news than good news which isn't helpful in my age."

"Holy shit, I think Bruce found his soulmate."Bucky whispers from the otherside of the room, watching how Tony snatches up a pen and napkin that had been sitting on the coffee table and starts to doodle on the napkin as he talks to Bruce."Tough shit on you getting in his pants, Stevie."

"Fuck off, buck."Steve nudges harshly at the dark brunette, watching as Bruce and Tony get fully into their conversation, almost pushing Phil off of the sofa as Tony slides into a seat and Bruce sits on the arm rest.

There's an odd type of feeling in his chest as he watches the pair interact and he isn't sure why. It's not like there's anything to get jealous of, Steve couldn't expect Tony not to get on well with anyone, especially not Bruce since they are born so interested in science. It's just, he hadn't expected Tony to hit off so well with someone and now Steve feels almost jealous at the fact that Tony isn't paying all the attention to _just_ him.

"They're talking so fast I don't even think they're speaking English anymore. It's like watching Phil talk about taxes."Thor comments, eyes going to the pair on the sofa as he grabs a remote control to set up the PlayStation for whoever is playing.

"Leave them alone, it's good to see Bruce so happy. He's been so upset since Betty left."

"She left a week ago, he can't be that upset."Bucky looks at her in disbelief.

"I swear I saw him sniff at her lab coat in chemistry today and tear up a bit."

"Ouch."All three wince in sympathy because that's the closet that Bruce will ever be to getting in touch with his inner emotions. Bruce and Betty had been a big deal, especially for Bruce who had a lot of problems with letting people into his life. They'd been dating for 2 years when Betty announced her early graduations and going off to university in Europe. It'd struck Bruce hard, even if it didn't look like it did.

"Maybe Tony will be good for him. Have himself a science buddy now that Betty is away. What do you think, Stevie?"Bucky looks at Steve who seems to be caught staring at the two, more jealously flaring in his stomach whenever Tony's eyes light up in awe at something that Bruce has said, followed by a laugh.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."


	19. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very late update, just like all of the other updates for the fics that I have published here and on Wattpad.
> 
> I’m in a critically stressed year of my life right now and updates are scarce, I know that, but I’m trying my hardest to bring out updates and I’m trying to make them the best of my ability, even of the endings are a little quick and shady.
> 
> For everyone who is reading, commenting and being patient with me, thank you!

"Should you be smoking with that?"

"It's called an Arc Reactor, if you're going to talk about it, at least call it by its name."Tony blows out a stream of white smoke, watching it as it disappears off into the clear night sky. It's a cold night and Tony's body shivers with every gust of wind, teeth chattering and lips turning blue but the atmosphere inside of Steve's house was getting too much for Tony to bear, so he escaped outside, where it was quiet and peaceful.

Don't get him wrong, Tony is having the best time of his life here and he hasn't been this happy to interact with people in years, but as much as it's all good fun, Tony can't help that creeping nerving voice in the back of his head that's telling him that he's overstaying his welcome. Which is ridiculous of course because Steve invited him to come over, and when Tony was about ready to head home, Steve almost _begged_ for him to stay.

Which was weird, because never has anyone begged for Tony to stay longer, with the exception of Momma Rhodes of course. And it just gets weirder whenever Bruce joined him on the sofa and they sat and discussed Tony's new layout of the Arc Reactor he was thinking of upgrading to, or the phone that he made from scratch in his college workshop, or how Bruce has one of the most intelligent, undiscovered minds of the century ( even if that did make Bruce blush to the tips of his ears ).

Or how Clint, even after Tony had beat him continuously at Mario kart, still dragged Tony into the kitchen so that they could steal the best of the snacks before Thor came and demolished it all. Everyone seemed to be well too nice to Tony, sweet and generous with their actions, offering him food, letting him get involved in their conversations, giving him a blanket to sleep under incase he got cold.

And it made Tony's skin itch, as if there were thousands of little ants crawling under his skin that he just couldn't get at, that his skin was getting tighter, constricting him from moving, from being himself, because he didn't feel like himself with all of this generosity. It just wasn't _right_. They didn't know who he was, how he acts, how much money that he has. It's all _fake_.

So the first window of opportunity that Tony had gotten, he used it as an escape route to get out of the cramped house, away from Steve's concerned little glances of _Are you having fun?_ And James' equally annoying glares. He ends up himself crosslegged on Steve's front porch, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a sense of regret echoing in his head.

"Well, are you?"

"Technically, I'm not even supposed to be out of my house. So who knows what I'm _allowed_ or not."Tony brings the flickering cigarette up to his lips, fingers posed correctly, large glasses sliding down his nose which he corrects with a little push of his index finger."What are you going to do, squeal on me?"

"Steve will have a shit fit."

"Oh don't bore me with your attempts of acting like your group is so angelic. You're not as subtle as you think you are. The entire bathroom stinks of stale cigarettes, it's a miracle Steve hasn't figured out the fact that you're all smoking in his bathroom because you're all too chickenshit to tell him."

"No we're not."James seems to flare up in offence, his shoulders squared and jaw set at the accusation that Tony has just made.

"Oh, save it."Tony rolls his eyes, peering up at Bucky through his thick rimmed glasses, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lip as fishes out the remainder packet of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket, holding them out to the mysteriously edgy looking teenager."Join me, if you wish."

James eyes the packet up, body stiff as he stares the packet of premium cigarettes with narrowed steel blue eyes as if the offered packet of cigarettes are laced with poison. Tony has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the suspicious look that's washed over James.

"If I'm smoking from the same packet, do you really think they're poison? C'mon, my arm is going dead."He rattles the packet in the air impatiently for James to take one, not backing down until he spots James' hand come and hesitantly take one from the packet. Tony snorts,"Thought so. Now join me."

"You're a weird guy,"James takes a seat on the damp wooden porch, his legs dangling over the steps and feet on the pavement in contrast to how Tony has his legs tucked under his bum. His eyes are narrowed, mumbling something under his breath whenever Tony suddenly presents him a lighter without a bash of the eyelids.

"So are you, handsome, Thinking you're all mysterious and edgy just because you listened to one _My Chemical Romance_ song when you were 12 and it changed your life. You'd be a nice enough guy if it wasn't for the fact that you look like you drain the blood out of wounded animals for a living."

"Says the guy with a _thing_ in his chest."Bucky grimaces in a way that makes Tony tense all over, that cold familiarity of when he has just arrived home from the hospital, the look of sheer disgust that had been painted on his Mothers face as she barely glanced at the monstrosity that was the arc reactor in his chest.

Or the look of exciting, curiosity and wonder than had flickered in Howard's eyes as he set eyes upon the blowing blue arc reactor for the first time through the slim opening of Tony's bedroom door. The poking, the prodding, the questioning that everyone from S.I did as he was dragged by what felt like the collar around all of Howard's business partners to look at the _thing_ inside of his chest.

"My _thing_ keeps me alive, kinda, it's a complicated matter that I'm sure your self in-tilted mind won't comprehend. Your grunge ego style, however, doesn't."Tony is squishing the bud into the damp wood of the decking before flicking it off onto the pavement, crossing his arms around his stomach and hunching over.

As much as Tony wants to escape back inside, back into the warmth of Steve's lovely, homely home, his head is still aching from the socialising, the loudness of everyone talking, laughing, joking and it's just something that Tony isn't use to. So instead, he settles on hunching over in an attempt to keep some heat, shivering like some scared shitless Chihuahua.

"What do you mean it's _complicated_?"

"Why do you care? You seemingly dislike me enough."

"I don't care, but Stevie does."James is bringing the burning cigarette up to his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke into the crisp cold air as he side eyes Tony. The smaller teenager looks so fragile beside him, a shivering shoulders compared to Bucky's broad ones, overly large jumper in compassion to his tight shirt.

"Well that's sweet,"Tony breathes out, seeing his own breath in front of him as he ducks his head to watch him wiggle his converse cladded feet. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips at the thought, allowing himself to believe even for a little while that Steve actually cares, changing the conversation swiftly.

"So are you going to tell me?"

"What does it matter, I'm working on it."Which he is, or will be, it depends on how you look at this progress track record on how long it takes for him to actually get into action. What blueprints that he does have to create his new arc reactor are far from being finished, and until he does finish those blue prints at least, as well as research and scavenging for equipment and material, all projects will be put on hold.

And when Tony says that everything will be put on hold, he doesn't really mean it. Tony is a multitasker and if that means he has to actually involve DUMM-E for an extra hand of help, then so be it.

( Which more or less means that he'll give the 'bot a wrench or a screwdriver and make him feel useful for an hour or two around the workshop. )

"Stevie says you're in college, some massive brainiac apparently."Bucky speaks up just as Tony has gotten up from where he was sitting and starting to walk back into the house, not liking the idea of his lips turning physically blue with coldness.

"A brainiac? I'm insulted!"Tony exclaims loudly enough for Bucky to hear outside and for anyone in the front room of the house to also. Steves head pops up from somewhere behind the television, sunny blonde hair baby fine and soft looking and blue eyes wide as he looks in Tony's direction, something that unknowingly makes Tony's entire body run warm and fuzzy.

"What? Is that not a good word?"

"It makes my intelligence seem so fictional! Animated! Comedic! I have you informed that my IQ is very much real, thank you very much."

"Yes, but do you know the names of all of the James Bonds?"

"Do I look like I've been living under a rock?"Tony physically and audibly gasps, a hand on his chest as he spins to have a look at Thor who's leaning in the doorway. Sauntering closer to him, Tony calls off in order, counting on his upraised hand.

"Impressive,"Thor is whistling lowly at Tony’s extended knowledge of James Bond actors.

"I'm glad my obsessive James Bond knowledge _finally_ came useful."Tony grins cheekily at Thor, giving the towering teen a playful wink as he rocks on the balls of his feet innocently. It's an action that earns him a sort of a smirk from the older teen, caught by Phil who rolls his eyes.

"Watch it, Steve, Thor looks like he's closing in on your guy."Phil comments from across the room, a hand carding through Clints sandy blonde hair.

"Looks like Bruce is too, especially with how close-y close the two were earlier."Clint is smirking from his place where his head is resting on Phil's lap, a mouthful of potato chips."I swear, I thought they were both going to come a science orgasm with how excited they were talking about things like _atoms_ and _alloys_."

"Tony is not my guy."Steve's cheeks are puffed out, red with growing embarrassment

"Exactly,"Tony chimes, falling into the singular bucket chair with his legs draped over the arm rest, glasses pushed up onto his forehead and hair."You gotta have the balls to ask me out on a date, not just assume."

"The fucking shade, _damnnnn_."Clint lets out a hiss, head tipped back with a cackle at the shade that Tony is throwing Steve’s way, something that makes Steve’s entire face shine a beetroot red, all the way to the tips of his ears. There’s a bubbling sense of guilt forming in Steve’s stomach at that comment and it makes his frown deeper.

“I don’t want to-“Steve butts in to protest but Thor cuts him off.

“As much as I’m not interested on taking you out on a date, you are an incredibly attractive man.”

“Damn Thor, way to make a guy blush.”Tony is scarlet at the comment, brown eyes wide but there’s an adorable grin on his face that makes Steve’s heart do a double beat and his stomach do these sort of flips and flops in adoration at the sight.”You’re not too bad yourself. Gonna make someone very happy one day.”

“He’s a charmer,”Natasha slinks in beside Steve and the broad shouldered teen would’ve flinched at the unexpected voice if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s use to Natasha’s sneakiness. Her red hair is tied up into a tight pony tail of loose curls, face clear and clean of make up and shining in her natural beauty.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Not the way Tony is.”Natasha is skilful as she takes the wires out of Steve’s hands and rearranges them in her own, plugging them correctly into the back of the television.”He’s not just charming, he’s _schmoozing_.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, he’s just being friendly.”Steve frowns, looking at Natasha skeptically just in time to see her roll her eyes.

“I’m not saying that he isn’t, Steve, I’m just saying that he’s doing it _professionally_ , whether he realises that or not. This isn’t his first uncomfortable gathering.”With that, Natasha is getting up from beside Steve and is flicking on the television from the mains, leaving Steve frowning behind the TV, eyes watching the way that Tony’s eyes crinkle as he cackles at something that Thor has just muttered into his ear.

Tony seems to have Thor’s attention wrapped around his finger and it’s not only Thor, but Bruce, Clint and Thor too. Not that it’s a bad thing, per say, because Steve would rather have him making new friends with his friends than have him huddled in a corner like a scared spider, but as much as his actions, his words, seem smooth, some of it sounds rehearsed too.

But maybe that’s Steve overthinking things, analysing it too much. _Yeah_ , that’s it.


	20. Chapter Eighteen

Waking up to find somebody in his bed isn't exactly a surprise for Steve anymore, mostly for the fact that, no, he doesn't sleep around and have a bunch of girls in and out of his bed like a Yo-yo, but because he's acquainted the most clingiest group of people that you could befriend. There's no doubt that Steve has gotten use to Bucky's snoring in his ear or Clints leg thrown over his hip or even Natasha curled in the corner of his bed. It's just something that happens, Steve doesn't question it.

And if he's being honest, Steve loves it. He loves how close that their tight-knitted group of rejects are, he loves that everything just seems to natural and normal and unquestionable since the years that they've joined in the group, one by one. Steve is just as bad, he's not so much touch-attention-seeker but when you've grown up surrounded by family and friends that constant have the need to touch, you suddenly get use to it in a way that it's weird when you don't get it.

It's just how he and his group are and not only in private, but in public too. There's been occasions more than once where there's been questions thrown around the place on if Steve is dating Natasha because someone has maybe seen her linking arms with the blonde, or if Bruce and Thor are suddenly a thing because they once seen Thor forcefully shove a mouthful of jelly into the scientists mouth. They're ridiculous accusations and none of them will ever get sick of making fun of them.

This morning, however, the extra body that's in his bed isn't one that Steve is overly familiar with. It's simple things, the way that there isn't any limbs thrown over his body or uneven breathing on the back of his neck, but the way that the body is curled into him, not away like Natasha, but into his body, tiny and small in comparison to anyone that comes to Steve's mind this early in the morning.

They smell different too, of coffee but not the cheap garage coffee that Phil always stinks of but of coffee beans, freshly grounded and a hint of hazelnut to the scent. They don't smell of perfume, or aftershave, but of sweet cigarettes and potato chips, radiating a sort of warmth that doesn't make Steve kick off the bedcovers but makes him want to curl an arm around them and pull them in closer.

"No."

"I hadn't asked anything yet."

"But you were thinking, and I could hear you thinking, and I haven't had coffee yet so I'm not in any mood to deal with your 21 questions."Tony lets out a quiet, snuffly sounding huff as he somehow manages to curl into a tighter ball, body coming closer to Steves. Steve just snorts a laugh, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms up above his head, a groan escaping his lips at the new found comfort that relaxes from his body.

He should've suspected that the body curled next to him was Tony, not only for the unfamiliar but familiar smell that Steve knows will linger in his bedsheets, on his pillows, on his clothes, but of his his jogged memory can recoil himself falling asleep on his bed after an argument of who gets the remaining sofa and ending up with Clint being pushed to the living room floor. Tony had been absent for awhile, carried up in a fast talking, bawdy conversation with Thor in the kitchen, but Steve can remember the teen finding his way onto Steve's bed somehow, for some reason or another.

"So if I were about to ask you if you wanted coffee, your answer would've been no?"

" _Were_ you about to offer me coffee?"Suddenly, Tony's eye is peaking out at him, full of sleep.

"Maybe."Steve shrugs his broad shoulders, his t-shirt tight and smaller than it should be. He's came along way from the sickly skinny boy that he use to be, but still a long way from becoming the man that he's training to be."I was actually going to ask who it was in my bed, but I've figured out that answer pretty quickly."

"Yeah, sorry about that, by the time that Thor and I had stopped chatting the entire living room had already been claimed and I decided that sharing your bed was a better option than sleeping third wheel with Natasha and James."Tony stretches out, eyes closed once again and a blissful sort of smile upon his face. It's the first decent batch of sleep that he's had since Rhodey left for home.

"James?"Steve snorts, shifting up onto his elbow so that he's the one that's looking at Tony, sprawled out onto his back, the hoodie that he wore the night before still clung to his body and the soft blue light of his Arc reactor casting a dull light upon the bottom of his face."Nobody calls Bucky _James_ , he hates that name."

"Well he hates me more, it seems, because he told me to call him James."

"Ignore him, it's what he does. I'll talk to him."Steve has to suppress a sigh but he doesn't hold back on the roll of his eyes. Bucky has always been that type of friend, the one that goes out of his way to make anyone new who gets close to his best friend as uncomfortable as possible. Steve was use to it by now because every single one of their shared friends have went through the same treatment, Tony just seems to be getting it rougher than the rest had.

"Don't. I get it, I really do. Rhodey is the exact same, I mean not with friends and probably a lot more aggressive and an _I'll kill you_ speech, but it's basically the same."A weird sort of smile seems to ghost Tony's lips when he talks about Rhodey, even just thinking about all of the death threat talks that he's gave to so many people in the short time that he and Tony have became best friends.

Everyone on campus has probably been given the talk by now, or at least know not to mess with Tony Stark unless they want the wrath of James Rhodes on their ass. But, it doesn't stop Tony from doing his thing because Tony is selfish, he's foolish and he really doesn't deserve somebody as magnificent as Rhodey.

"You talk about him so much, I have to meet him. It's only fair, after all."

"Some day,"Tony smiles up at Steve through half lidded eyes,"I'll bring him home over spring break if you'd like. We were going to head to California for the week but if you want to meet him, we can take a detour."It wasn't a plan set in stone anyway,

"California? How do you manage to afford that?"Steve asks in curiosity, head tilted in that puffy dog type of fashion that Tony has quickly grown to love. It makes the big guy seem to curious and innocent, haven't yet been exposed to all of the ugliness that is Tony Stark.

"Oh."And Tony swears he almost pales, hands clammy by his sides as he averts his gaze from Steve's so open, so earnest eyes that Tony swears that he could get lost in if he stares into them for too long. _Think Tony, think_."We work jobs around MIT, in coffee shops, bookstores, the sort like that. We saved and that's our goal."

"That's-"

"Now, I think you promised me coffee?"Tony is quick with averting the conversation before he almost spills the beans. It was one thing to have Bruce know ( and of course Bruce would know, you don't involve yourself in the world of science and technology and not know of Stark Industries, following through to everything to do about Tony Stark as well ) but to have Steve know is a totally different situation.

Tony doesn't want Steve to know, he doesn't want that toxic knowledge to corrupt what angelic persona that Steve has obviously seemed to dream up when it comes to Tony. He doesn't want Steve to look at him any more differently than what he does now, he doesn't want that special treatment, the dancing around, the turned up faces, the muttering comments of all of the shameful, disgusting, embarrassing situations that Tony has gotten himself into.

He just wants Steve to see him as _normal_.

Well as normal as one can be with an Arc Reactor in your chest.

"Well I didn't promise you it,"Steve smiles, snorting a laugh just as Tony rolls out from under the covers of Steve's bed and nearly falls onto the floor, swiftly up onto his feet. His outfit hasn't changed, a hoodie and a pair of joggers but his hair is a messy of tight, corkscrew curls that remind Steve of that day he first saw Tony in the hospital, in joggers and a tank top, fully exposed in all his skin, muscled arms and scars.

"Bruce, my literal life saviour. Where have you been all my life?"Tony is gasping in awe as he is handed a mug of coffee the minute he seems to glide into the small kitchen of the Rogers resident. It's approaching 10 in the morning, a total of 4 hours sleep on the clock and probably the most that Tony has had since he was in a coma.

"Is my coffee that amazing?"Bruce's hair is just as unruly looking as Tony's, looser curls and rectangular glasses that he hadn't been wearing the night before now perched on his nose. It reminds Tony to have a look for his own, haven lost them sometime last night.

"Oh you thought I was talking about the coffee, how cute."Tony is offering him one of his cheeky smiles, resting his tired body against the kitchen counter as he watches the nerdy teenager manoeuvre himself around the kitchen. There's food on the go, weirdly enough, and Tony wonders who all of the food is for.

"Flirting with Bruce is like trying to get blood from a stone. It's painful to look at."Clint perks from his place at the kitchen table, a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him along with coffee and orange juice. Clints mug is black and white, the mug that Tony holds in his hands yellow with white dots.

"If I do recall, I witnessed you deep throat a banana last night to try and impress me, only for you to sneeze and it came out of your nose. Now _that_ was painful to look at."Tony's whole body is relaxed, tongue sharp and eyes playful, so many mixed signals that someone could go with.

"Well he got you there."Phil shrugs, gliding into the kitchen from the back door, dressed in different clothes from the night before and a mug in his hands, green this time.

"What happened to being on my side?"Clint pouts, a hearing aid left on the kitchen table and his good ear listening to Phil. Tony can vaguely remember being told about Clint being somewhat deaf and he must be a pretty good lip reader from what Tony can pick up because Clint hadn't missed a beat of their conversation from the night before until this morning.

"Have I ever been on your side? Last time I checked, I'm a neutral."Because last time Clint almost ended up in jail, but that isn't anything new.

"Oh stop fighting, we all know that you'd die for Clint."Natasha is suddenly in the kitchen, perched on a chair and Tony has to fight away the reaction to flinch at the new, unexpected voice. Her talk may be towards Phil but she's looking directly at Tony and the stare suddenly makes Tony feel very small.

"Let's be real, Clint is going to be the first to die."

"Why me?!"

"Why not you? You're a walking accident waiting to happen. I've never seen someone walk down a road and mysteriously trip on thin air and break his nose. How is that even possible?"

"It isn't Christmas, you're not allowed to roast me!"Clint is squawking, his entire face thunderous in anger and mouth full of chewed up bacon and eggs, something that makes Bruce's face scrunch up at the disgusting display of his own delicious looking food.

"Here's a towel if you want to shower."

"Jesus Christ, Steve!"Tony flinches, the hand that's not cradling his coffee coming up to his chest and he swears, if it wasn't already for his unsteady rhythm of a heartbeat, he'd think he'd be dying. Tony turns, face meeting chest and he has to take a step back to look Steve in the face, heart racing, eyes wide and lips slack."You scared the crap out of me."

"I didn't mean to."Steve says in an almost childlike innocence, folding and re-folding the towel that he holds in his hands and looking down guiltily.

"I know that, just- you need to wear a damn bell."Tony sighs, a smile on his face to assure Steve that he actually isn't mad. Steve seems to visually deflate at the smile, a sort of fuzziness in his own chest because the smile that Tony is giving him looks and seems so _real_ , so open.

"Here's a towel for after your shower."Steve has it already into Tony's hands before the teen can protest. The towel is fresh out of the dryer, soft and smelling of that laundry detergent that had tainted Steve's sheets.

"Is that your way of saying that I smell?"

"You smell good if that helps your ego."

"Fierce, I like it."

Thankfully, tony doesn't have a thing against using other peoples bathrooms which makes for a quick shower, not dwelling under the water or scrubbing harshly at his skin like a usually shower, but he does make sure to use Steve's shampoo, rubbing it into his hair. He smells of Steve, of freshly cotton sheets, the way that the wind blows on a windy spring day, of laundry detergent and Tony wishes he could bottle his scent.

By the time that Tony re-emerges from the bathroom, hair brushed into a messy quiff with hair products he had found in the bathroom and in fresher clothes, there's less people than before. Phil has gone to work, Natasha had gone off and Thor had to be home for a family lunch.

"Throw it over a radiator,"Steve tells Tony just as the teen is opening his mouth to ask where he should put the damp towel he used to dry himself off with. He's sitting on the sofa, Bruce is next to him and James on the floor, Clint just away in for his own shower.

"I used your shampoo, I hope you don't mind."Tony decides to tell Steve, maybe hoping to get a reaction that Tony can deem good enough out of him, only to receive a snort from James instead.

"N-no, that's fine."

"Okay, good."Tony rocks back onto he heels, suddenly finding himself incredibly uncomfortable  as he stands on the skirts of the living room, looking in on the comfortable looking group of friends, a silence fallen between them that isn't awkward or weird.

It makes Tony feel so out of place, the way he had felt the night before when he was bombarded with all of this unknowing kindness, thrusted into a friendship group that was so touchy-feely, barely knowing him but not hesitating to make him feel included.

"I'm going to go."Tony blurts even though every logical part of his mind is screaming at him to stay, stay for a while longer, stay and watch dopey television shows with Steve and his friends, stay to listen to Bruce talk about University options, stay to weirdly enjoy being the one to be glared at for intimation rather than the other way round.

"Wait, why?"Steve sits up straighter, a frown on his face.

"I have to pack,"Which is a lie, Tony hadn't even unpacked his belongings in the first place, a quick getaway if he needed. Tony is already heading for his backpack, stuffed with clothes and medication that Bruce and Thor basically forced down his throat the night before. He's swinging it onto his shoulder when Steve is suddenly there.

"You don't have to leave so soon, we can go out somewhere if you'd like, see Brooklyn."Steve suggests, looking coy at the doorframe of the bathroom where Tony had last left all of his belongings.

"I'm in intruding."

"You were invited, and I'm _inviting_ you to stay."Steve stresses, a little annoyed with the way that Tony's face falls into set, lips pursed and eyes narrowed at the much bigger teenager.

"I need to pack."He repeats like a broken record player, his hand tightening around the straps of his backpack.

"You and I both know that's a damn lie."Comes the deadpan from Steve, giving him a look that is so similar to Rhodeys but somehow so different at the same time."Stay. I'll show you around Brooklyn, show you how crappy Rhode Island is compared to this paradise."

"I'll come back, I promise. Just, just not right now."Tony sighs, a heavy dread in his chest, in his voice, the voice in his head included. He can't look Steve in the eye because he knows by the time he goes back to MIT, the life he leaves behind for the holidays is going to come back at full force; the drugs, the parties, the men, the sex, the alcohol.

But the life that there is in New York, in Brooklyn, in Steve, is one that he longs for so much more than what he's allowed to have.


	21. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hand gives his a squeeze, a squeeze to gain attention but to show affection and it makes Tony look up from where he's staring until he's looking into those eyes, baby blue and bright, open and caring and curious and worried all mashed into one. He looks away, feeling ashamed, there's fingers under his chin that pulls him back to those eyes, to a blue so bright like sapphires and a face so beautiful and set.

"So that's it?"

Steve is pushing the mountain of clothes that had been piled up onto his bed into the washing basket for him to put a load on, something in which he was supposed to do the other morning but had forgotten due to his mind being too occupied and worried about Tony coming down, which was a weird enough feeling to begin with, never mind actually abandoning all of his chores to make sure that everything was perfect for a guy that he barely knows.

Which isn't true, Steve _knows_ Tony. Sure, he doesn't know all of the big things in his life like his family or his actual home life, other than the fact that he lives in Long Island, but he knows all of the little things about Tony, all of the things that everyone else seems unimportant but is important to Steve.

Like the way that Tony has an undying love for coffee, black with two sugars, or how he constantly has the need to fix up things that are either broken or not up to his standards ( Steve learned that not only from Tony giving maintenance to the heart monitor but also because Steve had woke up from his nap that afternoon to find an old portable radio not only working but also picking up stations from different states, the hands of Tony Stark of course ).

It's stupid, silly things that Steve knows, and he knows it's stupid silly things like the way that Tony sleeps curled up and his face scrunched or how he constantly seems to threaten to turn his bot' Dumm-E into a toaster if he doesn't behave, even though he loves the company in his workshop at MIT, that would make Bucky's face scrunch in disgust and mutter something about how he still doesn't know him.

And maybe Steve knows _Tony_ , he just doesn't know _Tony Stark_.

"What's _It_?"Steve is asking, still sweeping dirty clothes into the washing basket. Now that he looks, Steve is pretty sure that not all of the clothes in the washing basket is his because last time Steve checked, he didn't own black leggings or red cycling shorts.

"The whole Tony _business_."Bucky's voice sort of dips into a sneer as he waves his hands about in a weird sort of gesture, face turned into a disapproving scowl as he gives the bed that Tony and Steve had been sharing the night before a disgusted sort of look before he continues."He goes back to his fancy collage Michigan-"

"- Massachusetts -"

"- and you go back to being Steve."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that I changed names? When did I stop being Steve?"Steve now stands up straight, the basket of laundry balancing between his hip and his arm in the most   
unthreatening way as possible.

"When you met him."Bucky answers sullenly, sulking by the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and hair hanging by his eyes, freshly out of the shower.

"Buck, you're being a bit weird."Steve scoffs as he moves past Bucky's sulking frame in the doorway and moves towards the garage where the washing machine is.

"You're the one being _weird_."Bucky snarks, something childish about his tone of voice as he stalks behind Steve. The blond doesn't even resist the urge to roll his eyes as he crouches to open the washing machine to put on the load.

"You are the _only_ person that has something against Tony, everyone else adores him."And usually, Steve is the one to stretch the truth but this time he isn't. Tony had managed to wiggle into everyone's good books, which was surprising enough when it came to a bunch of misfits like Steve's group.

The groups approval of Tony wasn't exactly needed but it sure did help the tight knots of fear that had been settled inside of Steve since the beginning of that afternoon that Tony had came over. To Steve, Tony meant a lot to him, and having his friends ( or most of his friends, anyway ) think that Tony was the good guy that Steve knows him as, it means a lot.

"Natasha doesn't."

"I'll let you believe that."Steve snorts, loading the washing machine and slamming the machine door as soon as he's stuffed in the last sock. Steve has known Natasha longer than Bucky has, and despite all of what Natasha is on the outside, she's very knowing and understanding.

"I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone."The blond deadpans, looking over his shoulder at his best friend who seems to carry a constant air of hatred and disgust when surrounding the topic of Tony.

"This is different."

"Buck, if I stopped talking to someone every time that you didn't like them, my only friend would be _you_."Which is true, because every single time that Steve had gained a new friend, Bucky was always that chip on his shoulder that nagged in his ear about how he didn't like them, how they weren't allowed to sit with them at lunch or play basketball after school. And it was only after Natasha had joined that Bucky finally started to relax when allowing new members to their group.

Tony, however, seems like a no go.

"You don't even know him!"Bucky finally bursts with a shout, frustrated with not only Hameln but with Steve of how dumb that he is acting, of how dumb that he's being, how dumb that he truly is for Tony.

"I do!"

"Oh really? What's his favourite colour? His shoe size? Does he have siblings? A dog? What do you call his parents? Does he love his mother?"Bucky is listening off peevishly, listening each question off with his fingers as he follows Steve like an annoying younger sibling, even though it's usually the other way round.

"We are not having this conversation again."He stresses, not even bothering to stop and grab food from the cupboard like he intended on doing before settling to watch a film until dinner. His mom should be home from her shift soon and Steve intends on making her dinner, it's the least that he can do.

"Oh, yes we are."Bucky is quick at his heels, storming into the room after Steve with determination written all over his face as he speaks."You don't know jack shit about this- _Guy!_ But if he phoned you up right this minute and asked for you to come to him, or for him to come to you, you'd fucking do it, and you know you would, because you're naive and gullible and this guy could be anyone, for fuck sake!"

"He has a name, Buck! It's Tony, Tony Stark, say it!"

"How do you even know that's his real name?"

"Because it was on his goddamn medical bracelet, you idiot!"And his medical sheets, and at the foot of his bed in block letters on a clip board that had read _Stark, Anthony Edward_. Steve had seen the name on his thick plastic that was wrapped around his wrist, mixed with the mesh of intertwining tubes and leads that stuck out from the back of his hand or from his chest.

"I stick by what I said. You'd drop everything for this guy, which you barely know, who could be a serial killer by the way, because you just love to feel charitable to poor souls that you find scarred and bruised in hospital rooms."And Steve swears, there's an undertone of jealous in Bucky's snarl.

"I'm going for a run."Steve finally breaks the silence, tearing his eyes away from Bucky in fury, jaw clenched shut and nostrils flared in anger. He doesn't know why he's getting so worked up about this, Bucky is right, Steve barely knows Tony, but there's something itching under his skin that's telling Steve to defend Tony no matter what. And it's weird, yet another thing to add to the weird things about Tony Stark and what he does to Steve.

"It's minus 5 outside."Bucky deadpans, grey eyes cold as he watches Steve reach for his own front door to make a leave in an angry huff.

"I'll survive."Steve backtracks and grabs a wind breaker and hat from the coat rack by the front door, shoving them on.

"Fine."

"And you better be gone when I get back."

"I will be."

And Steve knows that's a damn lie, because even when he's exiting through the backdoor of his own house, he knows that Bucky will still be in the house on his return, just like he always is, wanting to escape from a house that he's never really had attention from to a house where he gets it all.

When Steve returns from his hour run around the block half a dozen times, Bucky is still there, settled on the sofa with a bowl of chips and some corny romantic comedy on the television that he would normally scramble to find the remote for to change the channel to make it look like he's not watching something romantically corny.

Flopping onto the sofa, Steve pants for air, his face tinted red from sweat and the icy wind that had blown into his face for the good part of an hour, nose button red and ears numb. Bucky doesn't say anything and neither does Steve, for a while, and so he sits and pants for air while Bucky sits and munches on chips that he had defiantly stolen out of Steve's cupboard until the blond finally speaks.

"What are we watching?"

"The Back-Up Plan."

"Cool."

And that's that.

 

 

 

Steve hates it when Bucky is right

It's not something that happens often, because usually neither of them are right, but when it does happen, it's as if a massive boot made out of steel has kicked him repeatedly in the backside and Steve is not fond of that feeling whatsoever. It's a feeling of dread in his stomach, and the voice in his head that taunts him with a chant of _Bucky was right Bucky was right_ that makes Steve grumble and scowl because _for fuck sake_.

At least Steve can say it wasn't that _exact minute_ , it had been the middle of the night that Steve was awakened from his restless, dreamless slumber by the piercing sound of his ringtone and the dull thud of vibrations against that wood of his old bedside table. Steve is still groggy with sleep, half of his body turned in his bed to reach for his buzzing phone and half ready to tell Clint to fuck off and get a taxi home when a voice beats him to it.

"Steve? Steve?"

"Tony?"Steve immediately sits up, baby fine blond hair sticking up at the side of his head, eyes half lidded but mind fully alert at the sound of the urgency, the ear that seems to slick the questioned words of _Steve_ , as if feared that it's not Steve at all who answered the phone for Tony's aid."Tony, what's wrong, it's-"Steve casts a look at his alarm clock,"-3 in the morning."

"It is? Oh fuck, shit, how long was I- never mind, I'm sorry, go back to sleep I didn't mean to wake you up, go back to sleep, goodnight Steve, or is it good morning-"

"Tony, don't you dare hang up on me. Where are you, are you hurt?"Steve is up and out of bed, hopping round the small bedroom in search for his clothes, for joggers and a hoodie and shoes preferably too.

"I don't know."

"You don't know where you are or if you're hurt, talk to me."

"I don't know if I'm hurt, I feel numb, I always feel numb."Tony's voice comes out robotic, still without emotion as if trained to have said these words over and over again in front of his bedroom mirror, inside of his head as he walked home from a bad date, into himself under the sheets of his bed when he's crawled into bed. There's no emotion in his words but Steve can _hear_ the pain.

"I'm coming to you, I'll get a taxi, I'll be-"

"No! No, don't- don't come here, don't come to me."The robotic voice is gone, filled back with frantic and worry and fear that's so unlike the cocky, happy go lucky attitude that Tony's voice is usually filled with. It worries Steve, it makes his chest ache and his head hurt."I'll come to you, I'll meet you...somewhere, I'll be 10 minutes."

"You're in Long Island-"

"I'm not."It comes out sharp and blunt, with an undertone of regret and that unnerving sound of fear beneath the surface."I'll text you in 10 minutes."

And he hangs up.

Steve is left looking at his phone, the light still harsh upon his eyes no matter how dim that the light is. His own fear is strong within Steve, and it's not even an odd feeling, it's not even weird, because it's a feeling of fear that has been nestled inside of Steve since the moment he met Tony and he _knows_ it. It's a feeling of fear that's been buried deep, unknowingly knowing of the troubles that Tony Stark brings and he's ready for it.

Whatever this trouble is, exactly, is unknown.

It's no later and no less than 10 minutes when his phone is lighting up with a text so brief that Steve is glad that Clint taught him how to read 'text' codes or else he would've had no clue on what it was that Tony had texted him. It's a couple of miles out but Steve doesn't mind, he can run it, he's ran longer and he'll run it for Tony.

It's a coffee hut, and if course it is. Open 24-7 from the looks of it, quiet other than the soft bristle of late night/early morning radio and the chime of the bell that rings every time someone pushes open the front door. It's warm inside, cosy and nice, with little to no people in the coffee hut than a handful of business men and a figure that's huddled in the far corner.

"Tony,"Steve approaches the table with care, face tinted pink from the run and nose numb from the sharp, icy wind. His hair and swept in all sorts of directions, blue eyes open and caring and _concerned_. Tony looks up in alert, half expecting Steve not to have turned up and he looks terrible.

There's a sort of roughness to Tony's appearance that makes hospitalised Tony look like a God, in comparison to how he looks. Tired, worn out, broken, scared. His hair is matted down, a bruise that hadn't been there a week ago now formed down the right side of his face, dusted by his cheek bone and curved at his jaw.

"You look-"

"Shit?"

"I was going to say not that great, but we can go with shit."Instead of sitting across from Tony, Steve is swiftly sliding into his side of the booth, suddenly feeling so much bigger than Tony in that moment where the younger teen hunches over a mug of coffee and chews on his bottom lip.

"I'm so fucked, Steve."He finally whispers after a long stretch of silence, fingers enclosed at the fabric around the dirty hoodie that he wears, close to where the soft blue of the arc reactor can be seen through the material.

"What happened."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"Steve pushes for an answer, but he keeps his tone of voice mellow and his volume down, watching Tony's fidgeting hands that keep moving and fingers that keel twirling around the string of the dirty hoodie.

"Because you'll think differently of me, Steve, and that's the last- _you're_ the last person that I want to think differently of me."He keeps his voice low and quiet, as if he's afraid that anyone else that's in this coffee hut will over hear, as if they care of what Tony says.

"Then why am I here."

"You offered-"

"No, I mean, why did you call me. _Why me_?"Steve wants an answer and it's not exactly like he's mad, or maybe he is a little, because he's barely heard a word from Tony for an entire week since he left his home in Brooklyn, and now all of sudden he calls him up in the middle of the night, looking like - in the words of Tony - shit and wanting _him_. Wanting Steve.

"I'm not exactly raining down with friends, Steve."Tony's voice comes out bitter, keeping his eyes on the dark liquid of coffee that remains in the bottom of his mug. There's two open empty packets of sugar on the booths table, little grains of sugar remaining on the table."And I just need, I just need _you_."

"Me?"

"Yes."He sucks in a sharp breath, hands now found napkins to fiddle with, twisting the tissue fabric, tearing it into little pieces of chunks until it's a confetti on his lap and until the tissue is gone and he's reaching for another, out of nerves, out of anxiety because he doesn't know what else to say and he doesn't really want to speak but he doesn't want to leave because he needs to be around _people_. He needs to be around _good_ people, like Steve.

There's a hand that catches his own, and Tony freezes, he nearly flinches, but the hand is large and warm and _soft_ and it swallows Tony's own in a way that's familiar but not. The hand is so smoothed, without scars or blemishes and so unlike Tony's own which have been scarred from all sorts of bother.

The hand gives his a squeeze, a squeeze to gain attention but to show affection and it makes Tony look up from where he's staring until he's looking into those eyes, baby blue and bright, open and caring and curious and worried all mashed into one. He looks away, feeling ashamed, there's fingers under his chin that pulls him back to those eyes, to a blue so bright like sapphires and a face so beautiful and set.

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine. We can just sit here until the sun rises, or until the sun sets, and remain here, with you, for you if that's what you need. We don't need to talk."His voice is so soft, just like his skin, just like his hands, and his lips move so perfectly around each word and syllable that Tony's eyes are drawn to them.

"Can I kiss you?"

"What?"

"A peck, nothing more, I just- I just want to test out a theory."And as the words tumble out of Tony's mouth, their lips meet in a kiss that Steve has initiated but one that Tony has met him half way for. There's no movie moment of sparks and fireworks, but there's a warm, bubbling feeling of anxiety, of fear or of some other adjoining emotion that comes with feelings and crushes and sweet on's of the like.

Steve's hands are soft on his face, on the left side not the right, and his lips are as equally as soft as his skin, as his hands and his tone of voice that is reserved only for Tony. He's plaint, content with the kiss, despite the tightness in his chest and the dizziness in his head and there's a smile, so nearly not there but there on his lips, even as Steve pulls away until they are nose to nose.

"Talk to me. Talk to me softly, about your day, about your week, I want to remember the sound of your voice."

And he does.


	22. Chapter Twenty

"You actually _are_ alive."

"Gosh, Ty, don't look so upset, people might actually think you don't care about me."Tony bypasses the blonde on his way into a lecture that he's been signed up to, something about Biomechanics that had sparked his interest after Bruce went on an hour long talk about it to him that night at Steve's. Tony could honestly have sat their for hours and listen to Bruce talk about paint drying and he wouldn't listened, more so that Bruce looks like the type of guy not to open up much and another so that Tony liked the intelligent company.

Plus, if Tony was to someday become a super villain, Bruce will totally be on his mind to ya,e over the world with.

"Always negative, Tony, why so always negative?"

"I don't know, maybe because I nearly died?"And god, that's ten scary thing to say out loud. Sure, Tony knows that he nearly died, god, he felt himself nearly dying, but it's different saying it in your head compared to saying it out loud. It makes everything feel so much more real.

"Don't normal people say that near death experiences bring out the positive side of them?"

"How about I push you in front of a moving bus and you can test that theory yourself, honey."Tony suggests, throwing a famous Tony Stark smile over his shoulder at the blonde, walking further away from the Blonde.

"Shrapnel poison hasn't damaged your ego, it seems."Tony freezes suddenly, lips parted momentarily at Ty's words, stomach is tight coils, but he removers quickly as Ty now moves into his line of vision, lean body towering over him, body blocking his path.

"Is that what the rumours are, shrapnel poison?"He laughs in disbelief, rolling his brown eyes as he tries to push past Ty's body, a voice at the back of his head telling him to ignore the words that are coming out of his mouth and to push on. Tony had learned long ago on how to school his expression, it wasn't going to flatter now.

"Rumours? Oh, no. The truth."Tiberius Stone casts his eyes down to the glowing blue of the Arc Reactor in Tony's chest, body so casually leaning in the door frame of the lecture hall that Tony is about to enter but his face so dark, so set and calm all rolled into once. Tony has to look up, stretch his neck a little, in that way that he has to do when talking to Steve but very different.

Because when he's talking to Steve, soft soft Steve, he's looking up with fondness and adoration and affection and curiosity, with his heart swelling in his chest and a smile on his face. But with Ty, it's so false, so fake, so forced that his neck aches and his shoulders quake and his smile flatters on every word and every second.

"You don't think that the tabloids weren't all over the fact that Stark Mansion was set ablaze? God, I'm surprised the Queen herself hadn't confessed here concern and wonder of what happened."

"You talk shit,"Tony says calmly, bluntly, ease in his voice. Shrapnel poisoning is the truth, of course, but that's not something that Tony can let on about. It's knowledge to the Starks, the expensive doctors and hushed nurses ( and Steve, because well, it slipped out ) only. It's something that not even Rhodey knows ( and he won't know because it isn't _that_ much of a big deal ) but then again, his Father may pay a pretty penny to keep mouths shut but there's always someone fishing for more.

In any case, it's not Tony's fault that it's been blabbed, but he'll sure get the blame for it. Tony can picture the scene already, the look of utter outrage upon Howard's face, the disappointment upon his Mom's. As if almost dying wasn't enough, he had been blamed for the damage of the house, been shown off like cattle for slaughter at a Dinner party only to be shown that he was still alive, and the sake of the company will be shoved upon his shoulders.

God, Tony needs a beer. Or a shot. Or a bottle of vodka.

"I won't tell anyone if you come out tonight."

And it's tempting because every fibre of Tony's body is just vibrating to go out on the town, to drink until he's numb and can't even remember his name but can remember his credit card number. He wants to embrace the flashing lights, absorb the shitty music and just let the night take him, to be pulled onto Tiberius Stones lap and let him pet at his thigh as he gets drugged up, gets fucked up all for the amusement of everyone else.

 _Steve_ , The logical voice in the back of Tony's mind is screaming, _What about Steve?_

"And why would I want to come out with _you_?"It's directly pointed and Tony can see the way that Ty's entire body stiffens up, rolling his shoulders and _trying_ to make himself look like an approachable person.

"Or Stark Industries will forever be known as producing faulty weapons, and wouldn't that be the worse to hear that our dear men and women overseas see us using bombs that could potentially blow off their own limbs. Oh the lawsuits! The money! The shame!"

"I don't care. And besides, who's going to listen to you."The paparazzi weren't exactly besting down doors and crossing police lines to get an interview with Tiberius Stone and neither was his word worth anything either. Sure, the tabloids got a kick of plastering his handsome face over their front page now and again but even at that, it's rare for him to be plastered on the front page. Page 10 maybe.

"Anyone with a recorder and the desire to get a promotion, Stark."

"Stone Inc. is a dead company, you know that, I know that, anyone who follows the media knows that. Spreading a rumour that Tony Stark, son of mass weapons producer Howard Stark, is suffering from Shrapnel poisoning through a faulty bomb isn't going to make you your fathers successor."And it's the cold, harsh truth because everyone who has ever glanced at a business magazine knows that Stone Inc. is having its shares sold off to the highest bidder and Tiberius is getting none of it.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let your hair down."Ty sighs dreamingly, brushing off Tony's snark and advancing forward, the tips of his fingers brushing across Tony's smooth cheek. That smile creeps up upon Tiberius' lips, that same luring smile that had introduced Tony into the world of clubs and drugs and sex and it makes his stomach scrunch up in nausea.

"Thanks but no thanks."Tony declines blankly, pushing Ty's wondering hands off of his body as he turns sharply on his heel, heading back in the direction that he came in with his head held high and his legs moving fast.

He never really finds out what he missed from the Biomechanics lecture, which is a shame, but instead he heads down to his Workshop that is situated among half a dozen other highly equipped ( but not as impressive as Tony's ) workshops and labs of the sort. He's greeted by the comforting smell of motor oil, the delightful sight of his messy but messy-in-the-sort-of-way-where-I-know-where-everything-is workbench and the loud excitable beeps and whirls of Dumm-E who is urgently trying to tug himself out of his charging workshop.

Tony's nausea seems to disappear immediately at the sight of Dumm-E whirling and beeping towards him, holding a fuzzy tennis ball in his claw and eagerly pushing it at Tony's stomach, nearly knocking Tony off of his feet but he's learning how to control his strength which is progress. It makes Tony's entire heart swell, a silly sort of smile to appear on his face because even if this 'bot tortures him, he's his baby.

"Okay, Okay, give me a second."Tony laughs, throwing his backpack and coat onto a nearby chair before grabbing the Fuzzy yellow tennis ball out of Dumm-E's claw. The robot spins on the spot in excitement."I swear, though, if you break something-"It's an empty threat and he throws the ball across the workshop and watches in utter amusement as the 'bot chases after it.

The workshop isn't tremendously big but Tony doesn't mind, it's a temporary thing, after all, because it won't be long until Tony can design his own workshop, his own layout and equipment  and location. It'll be a lot bigger, with an adjoining bathroom and mini-bar and with hopefully by then, technology that he's designed for himself. No more of touch screen glass when you can just use holograms and interactive projections and voice command.

He's a futurist, sue him.

Dumm-E returns with the Fuzzy yellow tennis ball not that long after Tony has sat down at his workbench, not really intending to pick up any old projects or start any new ones. The 'bot is dropping the ball into Tony's awaiting hands, claw nudging at the mans chest now, giving a long and wild _beeeeeeeeeeeep_ that gives Tony that all too familiar reminder of that dreadful heart monitor back at the hospital.

"Don't worry, it's a good thing, the Arc Reactor."Tony taps at the metal frame around the main body of the Arc Reactor through his jumper, going into descriptive detail of Tony's entire winter break from start to finish as if Dumm-E understands, and he does understand goddamnit, he's smarter than anyone gives him credit for."It's keeping me alive."

The 'bot gives Tony another long _Beeeeeeeeep_ , nudging at his chest once more before whirling off towards a far end corner of the workshop, determined to clean up the mess he had made which he hopes that Tony hasn't noticed, which he does, but he leaves Dumm-E to it.

Tony falls back into his usual college routine, one that truly does play with ones sleeping and eating habits ( in which he sleeps none and 'eats' caffeine ) and resorts with Rhodey having to drag him by the scruff of his neck into a shower after his clothes is stained with the unusual mixture scent of motor oil, coffee and BO.

It's not healthy, of course, and even with his extra deformity, Tony is going to change his angle with some healthy eating and meditation, he's very fine with his heavy lifting and daily intake of caffeine thank you very much. He's gets lost in his work, school work and his own little side projects and builds that he does on the side like mixing up motor cycles or fiddling with new ideas, and it's during one of these binges that he gets a visitor.

"How long has it been since you've slept?"Rhodey's voice knocks Tony out of his deep thought, making the younger man look up in alert, pushing his goggles up onto his hair, hair sticking in all sorts of angles due to motor oil and grease, on his face too. Dumm-E is whirling excitedly at the visitor, offering Rhodey a screwdriver as a welcoming gift that has the man cracking a smile despite the circumstances.

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday."Rhodey deadpans, petting at Dumm-E's claw mindlessly.

"Oh, well, um, Saturday?"Tony actually has to stop and think, backtracking his days to figure out if that's correct or not.

Monday he had been caught up twiddling with the engine of some beat down Harley Davidson that Tony had bought off a Junior for a couple of bucks, Sunday he spent the day tinkering at Dumm-E's bits and bobs to make sure that the 'bot is all fine and dandy and today he's been working on god knows what. There's parts of a mobile phone spread out along the work bench but it's not Tony's so he must've promised an upgrade to someone months back which he's only getting around to now.

"And you've ate..."

"That, I guess."Tony shrugs coyly, looking over at the pile of energy bar wrappers and empty bottles protein shakes that Tony had thrown at the over flowing bin. It's by no means nutritional but he's never really been a great eater to begin with, that's not saying he doesn't like food because he does, when he wants it.

"That's it, get out."Before Tony can even blink there's a hand on his shoulder pulling him out of his seat."You need food, and don't you dare look at me like that because protein shakes are not food, Tony! And a shower, jeez, shower and then a food. Can you even remember what outside looks like? Or what a proper meal is?"

"That's not true I-"

"Making your own meal replacement shakes does not count, Tony."Rhodey speaks firmly, hands tight on his shoulders and pushing him out of the workshop, Dumm-E following behind him, waving a screwdriver in his claw for Rhodey to take.

"Explain that to my test subjects and their full stomachs!"Tony is snatching the screwdriver out of Dumm-E's claw, shooing the 'bot to his charging station and dumping the screwdriver into a passing tool kit.

"I- you better be fucking kidding me."Rhodey freezes, eyes wide and hands on Tony's shoulders, jostling the younger man."Tell me you're fucking kidding me and that you did not give test subjects your prototype meal replacement shakes."

" _Willing_ test subjects, if you will. They signed a waiver so they legally can't sue me if they develop unexplained nausea, ill-health, unexpected migraines, flu like symptoms or disruptive bowl moments and or find themselves in need of medical care."Tony lists off on his hand haven mulled over the possible symptoms that could possibly turn up when receiving replacement meal shakes from a 16 year old with no experience in meal replacement drinks whatsoever.

And besides, the collective test results had came back positive, other than an accidental addiction problem when involving one of the breakfast related meal replacement shakes, but Tony found a solution.

"You're going to get me arrested one day, brat."

"Hey! I am not _that_ irresponsible to get us arrested!"Tony sound offended more at the fact of being arrested rather than being called a brat, which in most cases, he is and he isn't exactly in the right place to try and deny that he is. Being arrested, however, was a low blow because Tony not only has the brains to not get arrested but the money to _prevent_ it from happening.

"God, sometimes I wish you just stayed back in New York with Stephen because I barely see you and then when I do see you you give me chronic migraines and constant anxiety."

"It's Steve and-"He cuts himself short, heels digging into the grounds surface and causing a Rhodey to crash into the back of him. A sudden rush of realisation seems to kick into Tony's brain, body breaking into a cold sweat and heart a sudden rush of irregular beating and before Rhodey can exclaim his distress of Tony stopping, Tony is already back peddling."I forgot to phone Steve."

"What?"

"I forgot to phone Steve!"He says louder, more urgently before, turning swiftly on the spot."I'll be five minutes."

"Tony-"Rhodeys sigh is cut short also, Tony's body cutting him at a shoulder as he runs past him and back to the direction of where they came.

"30 minutes!"Tony is shouting down the hallway over his shoulder.

"I swear to god, Anthony Stark!"And it should've been expected because Tony can never live up to his promises or does what he's told and Rhodey can do nothing else more but shake his head and plonk himself down in the hallway, ready to wait for Tony to emerge from the workshop or storm in himself.

Barging into his own workshop, Tony is waving off Dumm-E's attempts of greeting his welcome back and immediately reaching into his pocket for his mobile phone. It takes little to no time for his finger to have pressed onto Steve's contact, the familiar dial tone fresh in his ear, replacing the pulsing race of his pulse and blood that was previously circulating there.

Sure, Tony forgets things all of the time, like his birthday or Christmas or exams but suddenly, this feels way more important than all of those combined. He had made a promise, contentless little promises to Steve on his departure to keep in contact and to phone every so often at least. He has lived up to those promises, mostly.

"Tony? Are you alright? Is everything okay?"Steve's voice breaks Tony's dreading silence urgently and out of breath. The breath that Tony had no idea he was holding in is suddenly exhaled, entire body leaning against his workshop bench and a hand curled around the material of his t-shirt, knuckles brushing around the rim of the Arc Reactor.

"Steve."Is all that Tony is able to say, no _I'm sorry_ or an explanation to spill out of his mouth, but _Steve_. The name seems to roll off his tongue like the way that the ocean waves roll onto a beach, a slip of the tongue so naturally as if meant to belong there and it feels so right. It seems to make everything, whether better or not, good.

"Tony, are you okay? Are you hurt?"The urgency is still there but the breathlessness has faded, giving Tony the impression that Steve had been running to answer this phone call.

"I'm fine, I'm hungry which isn't exactly a sign of injury but I guess in my dramatic state of mind it could be."

"You should eat more."And Tony can practically _hear_ the frown on Steve's lips, the crease of the brow that meets in the middle in that look of concern that Steve seems to possess that could possibly bring a dead puppy back to life.

"You should critic less."He rolls his eyes, fingers dancing on the workshop bench before sighing."I forgot to call."

"You did."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I reckoned you were busy."

"I mean, I was, but I would've answered if you had called me."And it's Tony's lame excuse of trying to admit how much that he has missed the sound of Steve's soft soft voice, or how he's missed every breath, every laugh, every sigh that Steve has made in how own special, unique way and it's like a craving, an itch under Tony's skin just to hear Steve and it's unbelievable of how Steve has been able to corrupt Tony in such a way.

"Maybe I've been busy."

"Darling, you're never too busy for me. I'm too important to you."Tony smirks to himself, hopping up onto the workshop bench and swinging his legs off of the lift.

"Is that what you think?"Steve's own self is leaning against a stack of hallway lockers, haven caught up on his loss of breath from running urgently out of maths class with an excuse of an emergency phone call, a panic that had settled in when he had got an unexpected phone call from Tony.

"That's what I know, Steve."And it's teasing, Tony can feel the smile on his lips as he holds his phone to his ear like some kind of idiot."But then again, maybe that is all that I think seeing as you haven't worked up the courage to ask me out on a date yet."

"Maybe I was and you've just knocked my confidence down a peg or two."His face flushes a coy pink, over the bridge of his nose and to the tips of his ears. The idea had been planted into his head a while ago back but never having the opportunity.

"Well, If I tell you that I do want to go out on an official date with you, will it knock it back up?"

"That helps."There's a pause, a smile on pretty pink lips."When are you back in New York?"

"Spring Break, but only for a few days."There's more to the story, of course, because spring break has been set aside for party season in Malibu for the best part of the week off that has been planned back in September with Rhodey and a handful of other guys and girls that they've became mutual with. There's no doubt those plans will spread, but for now, it's a comfortable lot.

"I'll pick you up from the airport."

"And?"Tony prompts, petting mindlessly at Dumm-E's claw apologetically for shooing the 'bot off, as well as an item of comfort to Tony's soul.

"You and I will be going out for a date."


	23. Chapter Twenty-One

'Tony, Tony, Tony. M'boy, Howard is not going to be pleased."

Tony's head pulses harshly against his temples, an ache that Tony has grown accustom to over the last year or so of being involved in the party scene, fairly new to the party scene but very knowledgeable about the alcohol. His body aches, a dull type of ache that settles into his bones, down the muscle of his legs, a swirling nausea at the top of his stomach and sharp pain in his neck from where his body is angled in an awkward position on the hard, fine wooden floors of Stark House, Malibu, California.

Stark House is so much prettier than Stark Mansion, in so many different ways. It's newly furnished, with modern decor that decorates each room and surrounded by windows, and bright, natural light that gives the entire house a beautiful, handsome, gentle vibe. The house itself is positioned on a cliffside, overlooking the beautiful private white sand beach below and the dark blue waves of ocean that stretches out for miles and miles, a perfect view with a perfect sunset every evening and sunrise every morning.

Tony had taken it upon himself to snatch the keys to Stark House the evening that he had left for MIT, with his suitcases in the trunk of one of Howard's magnificent cars that he's sure not to miss and AC/DC blasting at a high volume as he drove the distance from Rhode Island to Massachusetts. He had swung the keys around his index finger, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned against the doorway into his best friend who sighed and groaned and grumbled about spending their Spring Break in Malibu.

But Rhodey was always easily manipulated when it comes to Tony Stark, and there it began their calendar countdown to Spring Break. Tony hadn't forgotten, checking his calendar as often as he could remember to do so until the weekend came and soon enough, Tony was throwing a suitcase or two into the trunk of the same car and set out for Malibu with his best friend in the passenger seat and Metallica blasting, desperate to enjoy the weekend.

And that's all that Tony can remember. 

His memory does not stretch further than pulling up to Stark House in Malibu, California with Rhodey in the passenger seat and cases of beer and spirits in the back seat of the luxurious sports car. They had planned to spend the weekend confined to the Malibu house and Tony suspects that he played by that rule, just not in the way that Rhodey approved because as much as Tony promised the weekend to just be the two of them, he has a big mouth and word gets around rather fast.

"-Don't touch _him_. Remove the rest, I don't care what happens to them or where they end up, just get them off of the property."The shadow that had been casted over Tony shifts away, a beam of sunlight lining through the massive, stretched out windows and onto Tony, casting the light upon his rugged, hungover features.

He's half awake, half tempted to roll over and press his face into the cold, fine polished wooden floor to ease at his pulsing headache, but there's a hand grabbing at the scruff of his shirt, pulling him across the wooden floor and tugging him harshly up into a seated position with his back against a sofa. Tony's head lolls forward but there's a hand in his hair, stretching his neck back as cold, harsh, sharp water is thrown into his face.

Tony gasps at the contact, eyes flung open in his shock and mouth agape with his sharp intake of air. There's water droplets caught to his eye lashes, locks of his hair stuck to his forehead and he can feel the cold water drip off of his chin and onto the bare flesh of his chest, bloodshot red eyes flickering up to look at his assaulter and feeling his stomach drop.

"What did we agree, hmm? You would stop these silly, immature games in exchange for my absence of your life."

"This doesn't look like an absence of my life, Mr. Stane."Tony hisses, his throat raw and his mouth dry with the vivid taste of cigarette ash and vodka left on his tongue. The room won't stop spinning, his mind running to catch up on current events and every time that he blinks he sees double.

"And this looks like another one of your silly, immature games, m'boy."There's a sly twist of his lips, as if this moment is something that he has been anticipating since the moment he left him stranded in that hotel room, their promise something to be broken because Tony never changes his habits and Stane knows all of his weaknesses.

Whatever happened on this weekend, it has left Stark House in an awful state, the house far away from its immaculate portrayal and now left behind as if struck by a hurricane. There are bottles of all sorts of alcohol littering the wooden floors, broken glass on marble counter tops, rips in expensive leather couches and what smells like Tony's usual scent of weed, alcohol and sex.

To Tony's surprise, only two of those scents are coming off of him, still fully clothes in jeans and a shirt that is way too tight and way too flimsy, the soft blue light of his Arc Reactor shining through the flimsy material and brightening the dark material of Obies suit. His jeans are stained and so is his shirt, with liquids and dirt but he doesn't care.

"-to pick up your pieces."Tony only hears the tail-end of what Obie is ranting about, monologuing the hardships of being Howard Starks right hand man which also means being limbered as being Tony Starks personal babysitter."I do this all for you, m'boy."

"You do it for the heavy pay check, don't try and act like you have my best interests at heart."Because if Obie has his way, and Tony knows this to a tee, he would have thrown Tony under the bus a long time ago, grasped at his opportunity to have his surname beside the word Industries instead of _Stark_ and sit back and watch the money roll in.

But he doesn't have his way, and despite the fact that he is Howard Starks right hand man, he lays no trust with him. Tony may be well kept out of his fathers business and the company that he is soon to inherit, but he knows that Howard doesn't trust easily and Jarvis is always too keen to warn Tony to keep one eye on Obie at all times, even from a young age.

And a long time ago, Tony use to laugh at Jarvis' scepticism or his fathers paranoia or how his mom use to always linger in the door frame any time that Obie was caught alone in a room with Tony. Now, Tony wishes that he took all of those hints, the red flags, to heart because he wouldn't have ended up in so many of the situations that he has in the past, and he wouldn't be here right now.

"Tony, of course I have your best interests at heart."And Tony would almost believe him if it wasn't for the access information of his background, with the way that his head is titled almost sympathetically or his brow creases in concern, an action that Tony use to take to heart.

"You settled this agreement, Tony, not I. You came to me and _begged_ me to give you this chance, to redeem yourself, as a new young man, but yet again you have proved to me that you are nothing but an immature boy who is just _begging_ to be put into his place."Obie's voice is a sneer in his face, lip curled up, his large meaty hand curled around Tony's hair and jostling his head back and forth painfully."But Tony, I'm too late to save you this time."

There's a phone screen being flaunted into his face, a headline caption of some tabloid that Tony knows of but doesn't know enough about. His vision is blurry, the pixelated words on the stupid IPhone blurring together, paragraphs smudging and lines adjoining but Tony can read the headline clear enough that it makes his stomach drop and the photographs along side the article to cause his throat to close over.

Tony's face has had a habit of being plastered over tabloids and 60 second gossip intervals between television programmes, but Obie and the impressive Public Relation team that he set up for Tony's best interest at heart was always quick with smudging NSFW photographs and distorting stories. Tony loved the attention, he still _loves_ the attention, but-

"This wasn't my fault."He whispers, lips barely moving, tongue heavy and numb. His eyes keep flickering to the photographs attached to the tabloid article, with Tony draped over a lap of a man that he doesn't recognise, his hands curled in a blondes hair, his back pressed against a chest of one Tiberius Stone with an outward look of pure bliss on his face but his eye so far away and empty.

They're insider photographs and Tony knows exactly who took them.

"It is _never_ your fault."It's mocking, of course, because Tony has lead his life believing and being told that everything is his fault, in manners that don't show him off in a good light and make him out as the spoilt little brat that the media loves to portray him as."And I'll fix this, for a price, however."

"Then don't fix it."Tony is quick because Obie's prices are never cheap, nor do they do good for Tony.

"The problem is, you see, is that I have to fix this. For the sake of the company, of course, but you _need_ me to fix this."Obie flips the godawful phone around in his hands, almost teasing him.

And Tony hates it when other people are right, because deep down, Tony knows that he needs this fixed. It's not only flashing S.I into a bad light, but it's putting his place at MIT on the line, a place that Tony so desperately needs to keep.

"What do you want."His voice is a murmur, barely a whisper and lips still touching, but the growing smirk that rises on Obie's lips is clear enough that he heard Tony. They brush over Tony's payment in exchange for Obie's clean up and then he's leaving, rubbing his thumb I've Tony's high cheekbones and brushing off the knees of his suit before leaving Tony in the rubble that is his own mess.

Eyes closed, head bowed, Tony remains on the floor for a little while longer, the pulsing headache at his temples rising and the churning of his stomach continuing in a way that has Tony deep breathing to stop himself from throwing up because he is not weak. He takes his time but eventually Tony is pulling himself up to sit on the ripped sofa, and swaying to stand up onto his own shaky legs.

The room spins for a moment or two, but eventually settles enough to allow Tony to make the distance from the living area to the stairs, eyes scanning over empty bottles, plastic Cubs, confetti, articles of clothing and garage that litters the floors, furniture, draped over chairs and banisters. Jarvis would go nuts if he saw the state of Stark House and his mother would have been dragged by the ear.

"I can't remember, was this supposed to be a weekend of just the two of us or did I spontaneously agree to having 300 of your _dearest, closet friends_ tagging along?"

"300 is a little downgrading, 400 at the least."

"You look like shit."Rhodey deadpans in true James Rhodes fashion and it's familiar, comforting  and it doesn't make Tony feel as if he's hit rock bottom, _yet_.

"I feel like shit."Tony sits down on the stair with a heavy sigh, giving up on his attempt to make it up to the bedrooms that are sure to be as ruined as the rest of the house. Rhodey stands in all his immaculately, a black plastic bag in his hand and Tony can't even help the silly sort of smile that appears on his face."Cute, James Rhodes to the rescue with his black plastic bag. Call me in a week when you finally finish cleaning the place, Honeybear."

"This isn't for the garbage, it's for you after I kill you and I need to dispose of your body."

"I know that I'm below the height of the average male but I think you'd need at least 3 plastic bags to wrap my body in."He isn't that small, a little below the average height but he makes up for lack of height with his overlarge ego. Tony groans, leaning his face into his hands."If you're going to kill me, do it quick, it feels like someone is dancing on my brain and I think I'm going to puke which is not something that Starks do."

"Starks don't cry, Starks don't puke, is there anything that Starks actually do?"

"Complain."He groans, wanting so desperately to be handed painkillers ( which he will profoundly refuse to take but he offer is great ) and a blanket and left to die for the next 24 hours.

"That sounds about right."There's a clunk, the plastic bag dropped to the floor as Rhodey emerges closer to the stairs and nudges at Tony not unkindly."You might be small but you're fucking heavy and I'm not carrying you up a billion flights of stairs. Get up."

Like predicted, the second floor of Stark House is just as bad as the Ground Floor. Rhodey grimaces at the state while Tony keeps his eyes trained on where his feet at taking him, careful not to step on stray pieces of broken glass or trip over his own two feet. Tony's bedroom is locked, just the way that he hoped it would be, with a key hidden at the top of the doorframe.

The room is as untouched at the last time that Tony spent the night here, in Stark House, a year or two before he was accepted into MIT and he and Peggy spent week of summer just chilling. It had been a good week, Tony loved the beach and he loved the ocean and Peggy use to tell the most amazing of stories that kept his mind away from he haunting family that he left back in New York.

"I suggest taking a shower."

"I suggest you shutting up. Please."Tony tacts on at the last minute when he realises that Rhodey is his only hope of getting him from the doorframe to the glorious bed."Plus, I'm really not up for you seeing my dick. Not today."

"Oh I've seen it, I expected better."He dumps Tony onto the bed, watching how the younger male seems to just stretch out on the silk sheets, his body glistened by the streaming sunlight that shines through the large windows that stretch from wall to wall, leading to view of the magnificent beach and ocean below.

"Lay down with me."Tony pats the space beside him on the bed, making a show of shuffling just a smidge to give Rhodey more room even though the two of them know that Tony will flop a leg over Rhodeys body and sleep like that.

"Only for 10 minutes because I need to head out."He's already complying, toeing off his shoes and getting onto the bed.

"To see Momma Rhodes, I know, I know. Just until I fall asleep."Tony has a leg thrown over Rhodey, shuffling into his personal space until his cheek rests upon Rhodey shoulder and the mans arm is draped around him, pulling him towards his body in that protective sort of way that Tony loves to be held.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Two

"Steve, wake up, this is not the time to be sleeping, get up! Now!"Steve is shoved harshly at the shoulder, at the side, his stomach, his chest, gripped at the shoulders and jostled awake until there's throwing arms and grumbling words and lights flickering on in the small bedroom of Steve Rogers. The light blinds, Steve hisses, flinches from the light as he tries to blink and adjust, barely making out the figure that lurks at his bedside with longing hair in their face and a phone waving about in their hands.

Bucky's talking animatedly, hands moving, lips shaping, torso heaving about...something. Steve is just trying to focus on waking up, beady eyes squinting at the alarm clock on his bedside table, _4:06am_ flashing in vivid red LED, sometime in April, it's Spring Break. It's raining outside, Steve can hear the patter of rain hitting his window, the musky scent of damp, feel the droplets dripping onto his bedsheets from Bucky's longing hair.

"Buck, what the-"

"Have you seen this? Of course you haven't because while you've been _sleeping_ , and you need to get your snoring checked out by the way, _this_ is everywhere."Steve doesn't have to wonder what _this_ is for long, a phone screen being shoved into his face, eyes blinking to keep up with the flashing lights, the vivid colours, the movement of bodies upon another, lips curling, voice sluring, tongues-

"No. This is obviously fake."Is Steve's first reaction, scoffing, shaking his head, pushing the phone out from his face because that can't be Tony, not _his_ Tony.

"There's more,"There's an almost smugness to Bucky's words as he flicks his thumb across the screen and more videos pop up, photos, articles, making headlines, blurred out faces, censored body parts.

It's Tony, there's no mistaking those brown eyes, that glorious smile, the way he seems to move with a grace as if the world owes him something in return for his existence, the one-in-a-billion Arc Reactor that's nestled in his chest. It's Tony who's pictured laying half naked on a bar top, Tequila shots off of his stomach and thighs, it's Tony who's videoed grinding on the crotch of a man at least 5 years his senior, it's Tony who's-

"The tabloids are saying he's a playboy, I say he's a slut."Bucky grumbles, flicking through more photos of Tony up against men, enclosed by woman, surrounded by both, insider photos on shaky cameras and dimmed lights."He's the heir to Stark Industries, a defence company that develops and manufactures advanced weapons and military technology, according to Wikipedia, I did my research after these images popped up and his name started getting smeared on my social media."

Bucky's phone is yet again shoved into Steve's hands, forcing him to read the articles and websites about the Starks, most notably Tony Stark who seems to have pages dedicated to him. Anthony Edward Stark. Date of Birth: May 29th. Parents: Howard Stark and Maria Stark ( _Nee_ Collins Carbonell). Suggested keywords; Criminal Record. _Billionaire_. Heir to Stark Industries. Criminal Record. Photos. Videos. Men. Woman. Partying. Alcohol. Drugs. Genius. Pentagon. Criminal Record. World records. Smartest mind of the century.

" _Billionaire_. And you're the one buying him cheeseburgers!"Bucky laughs, hysteric and loud, shaking his head, neck arched back with the laugh."Jesus Christ, I knew there was something up with him but this, this is fucking gold. The kid is a train wreck, a fucking rich train wreck, so doesn't seem to be able to keep it in his pants from what I'm seeing."He snorts.

"Enough, Buck."

"Oh come off it, Stevie, I know you're smarter than to be sweet on _this_."He gestures aggressively to his phone."You could have anyone you wanted and you're pinning on this guy? I wouldn't be surprised that he has more STIs than a seat in a clinic."

"I said enough, Buck. Drop it."It's anger that seeps through Steve's voice now, tearing his eyes from the screen to look at Buck, blue eyes swirling with anger, frustration, hurt, betrayal. It's dull, the ache that forms in his chest, numbing his limbs, his body, his head as he replays the photos and videos and articles in his mind of Tony.

Of the Tony who speaks animatedly about his Robots, or nuzzles coffee as if it's his life source, or scoffs cheeseburgers in the least attractive manner possible but Steve doesn't care because he still thinks Tony looks ridiculously handsome. Of Tony who sleeps curled at his back, who submits to soft kisses to his lips, his cheeks, blushed at forehead kisses or when fingers are ran through his hair, who kissed him below his chin before he left, where it lingered for days and weeks.

"He disillusioned you. He wanted you to know him in his own manmade light, the softer, friendlier perspective rather than the harsher reality that he actually is. You knew _Tony_ , but this is who he is, Tony Stark. I'm not the one that lied to you."

"He didn't lie to me."Steve is stubborn, he's famous for his bullheadedness, headstrong that he's right, that nothing deceives him, naivety strung to the extent that he believes in facades and false first impressions and fake smiles and oblivious to sarcasm. 

"He didn't tell you the truth either."Bucky deadpans, stuffing the phone back into the pocket of his jogging bottoms, pushing a hand through his longing dark hair."He lied to you, Steve, he made you believe that he was some type of wounded animal, and what, because he has that thing in his chest? Boohoo, poor little rich boy is just hanging onto that as a charity case stunt to pull in sadsaps like you for fresher cock."

"That's- that didn't happen- we didn't-"

"Yes yes, I know,"Bucky flaps his hands dismissively, pacing the floors."I don't see why you're so angry at me, I'm just the messenger, he's the one that's fucked you over!"

"He didn't _fuck_ me over!"Steve has gotten defensive, squaring his shoulders, jutting his chin, standing taller than Bucky who is no stranger to Steve's stubbornness nor his short temper.

"Why are you defending him, Steve? He's a liar, he's a deceiver-"

"You purposely dug the information out, you've never liked him-"

"Of course I ever liked him! From the second I laid my eyes on him I knew that he was hiding something and guess what, I was right!"Bucky is joyous, gleeful, smug as he throws his arms up in the air, a grin on his lips, a triumph tune in his voice because he was right! Everyone was so oblivious by Tony's shining personality, his charming grin, his flashy car.

"I'm done, I'm done with this conversation. Get out."There's fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a headache building at his temples, a heavy pressure behind his eyes because this is not what he expected to be dealing with, not today, this week, this month or _ever_. 

"You don't mean that."

"I said get out, Buck."

There's a silence that follows, strung out, long and hesitant as Bucky longs to reach out, say something, snarky or defending or maybe even neural before he snaps his mouth shut with a clack of teeth. Steve can feel those steal blue eyes upon him, analysing him, roaming him before there's a sharp turn on heels, the ruffle of clothes, the shaking of door nobs that end in the slamming of a door, Steve releasing a gulp of air he didn't even know he was holding.

There's disbelief in his heart, a cry that what Bucky is flaunting isn't true, that it's fake news, a ploy to have Steve dragged away from his sweet on, to lure him into someone familiar and close to home who isn't halfway across the country. But Steve is logical, under all of his naivety and stubbornness, and he knows that the chances of Bucky lying to him are slim but that doesn't mean that Steve wants to believe him.

His heart hammers in his chest, palms sweating, a pulse in his neck, lips trembling in anger or sadness or disbelief or maybe in betrayal as his fingers dance across a beaten up computer in the corner of his room. Steve's finger hovers over enter, trembling, hesitant, uncertain because does he want to have himself fall down this rabbit hole? Of every thought that he has, sight he has cherished, opinion he has kept, of Tony to be tainted by the truth of what he truly is?

Tony Stark, _Search_.

 

 

——————

 

 

Tony has always been one that treasured the moments of sleep, mostly because sleep wasn't something that came on his plate often nor was he the best at staying asleep when it did come around. But when it does, he adores it, treasures the moment of sleep where you're so deep in sleep that you don't dream, that you wake up with sleep heated cheeks, messy hair and a brain so fogged and hazy that it's like coming out of your own personal oasis.

But sleeping with someone else is always so better, to have an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers drumming at the bones of his hips, a heartbeat below a chest that your head rests upon. It's wonderful, amazing, magnificent and _safe_. It's when he manages to sleep best, when he's wrapped up in the warmth of another, a heartbeat in his ears, the soothing sounds of someone breathing near by, the protectiveness he feels of having a body wrapped around his own.

Tony falls asleep with his leg draped around Rhodey and a protective arm around his waist, and wakes to the duvets piled up at the left side of the bed in the space that Rhodey once was, a late afternoon sunlight shining through open French doors that lead out onto a balcony that overlooks the magnificent ocean. His body shivers, his shoulders hunch, he huffs into the mattress as a breeze gusts into the room, ticking his skin and disturbing the flimsy curtains that remain.

Rhodey always does stupid little things like that, like opening windows to air out a room because he knows how much Tony gets stuffy in his sleep and how he adores the smell of the ocean, the beach, the sounds of seagulls squawking or the ocean lapping up onto the shore. Or how he leaves painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table, even if he knows Tony won't take them, he still tries.

With that thought, Tony slowly peels his eyes open, vision blurry and grainy but he can spot the glass of water and painkillers that sit on the table just before his eyes fall shut, a smile on his lips as he pulls at the duvets to hopefully go back to sleep. If he's lucky, maybe he can sleep for another couple of hours or so before...before...

"Steve."Tony's entire body jerks up, his head spinning, his vision blacking out, his limbs moving at a frantic rate as he tangles himself in the bed sheets, thumps against the floor. There's no time to dwell on the pulsing pain in his head, the swooshing of nausea in his stomach, up to his chest, throat, mouth, as he gulps it down and hops around the room because he _promised_. He promised _Steve_.

Tony doesn't know the date, or the time, but that doesn't matter as he over turns mattresses and throws linen across rooms in search for his mobile phone, keys, wallet, clothes that aren't stained with fluids and powder and what he hopes is mud. His heart is thumping against the Arc Reactor, his teeth are doing a number to his bottom lip as he scampers around the upturned Stark House, collecting what he needs and making a mental note to beg Obie for his assistance.

There's a painful, dull feeling of dread that settles within him once he's out the door and in the drivers seat of the car, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, a Large coffee in the cup holder and probably still dangerously over the limit as he drives the long distance, revving his engine on long stretches of deserted road. Spring Break Weekend has been a blur, a smudge in his memory and Tony hopes he hasn't preformed any degrading acts, more recently that is.

"Pick up, pick up, c'mon Steve."Half of Tony's attention is on the road, fingers drumming impatiently on the wheel, eyes darting from the road to his phone that's rested upon his thigh, desperate, begging Steve to answer his phone. If Tony keeps driving the way he is, he could make it to Brooklyn by tomorrow night, if he only stops for gas and to use the bathroom.

There's no answer, his voicemail box is full with frantic messages of Tony's apologies, of Tony pouring his heart out with his heart on his sleeve, a lump in his throat, a heaviness in his eyes because this is the one thing in his life that Tony doesn't want to mess up. And Tony does this, causing a mess just as his life starts to get on track, he's his own pin that pops his little perfect bubble; his own worst enemy.

 

 

————

 

 

Heart thumping, head swimming, chest tightening, limbs frantic, knuckles rapping, the sound echoing into the night of the quiet suburban street as bone knocks against heavy wood. It's a little past midnight, not a sinner to be of sight, and only Tony seems to be awake as he raps against the wood of Steve's front door, a sight to behold with greasy hair and dirty neck and wrinkled clothes and bags under his eyes with a dead phone in his back pocket and hands fitter with nerves, a bleeding bottom lip.

The door opens.

"I'm sorry, I-"But Tony stops, his eyes fall upon Steve, Steve who usually looks at Tony with so much wonder and curiosity, head tipped to the side, lips pursed, eyes full of earnest and trust and honesty, full of adoration for all of his quirks, but never like this. There's a look of thunderous rage, hurt, betrayal, _disgust_. 

"Who are you?"And his voice; emotionless, monotone, dull, blunt. It's so unlike Steve, it's not Steve. Tony encrypts the question, he knows the answer that Steve is looking for.

"I-"Tony can't breathe, a restriction on his airways, a heavy weight upon his chest tats keeping him weighed down to the floor of the ocean, keeping him there, drowning him in the thick mass of dark sea as his heart hammers harder in his chest, louder in his ears."I'm Tony."

"Don't lie to me, I _know_. I know everything about you, _Tony Stark_."It's like venom, twisted with hatred and disgust and sadness. There's a look of pure anguish on Steve's face, muted only by his words."Billionaire. Playboy. Criminal convictions. Alcoholic. Drug abuser. I've seen the photos, read the articles, heard the audio. I'm caught up to date, so please, spare the details of your spring break because I _know_."

"You don't know anything, I never-"

"Do you think I'm stupid? Is that it? Am I your new pet project to poke at when you're bored, a challenge for your own entertainment, a bet for your overinflated ego? Are you trying to study what it's like to date someone poor, naive and stupid from Brooklyn for extra credit? You might have made a fool out of me but I am not stupid."

"Of course you're not!"Tony squawks, defensive, standing high on his top toes, his shoulders rolled back, his chin held up high."I would _never_ do something like that! You know that!"

"Do I? Because I thought I knew you, that I knew you like your coffee black with two sugars or how cheeseburgers are your favourite food or how you listen to Metallica when you're fiddling with your 'bots but only listen to AC/DC when you actually have to do work for your class. You're not who you say you are, you're a liar, a deceiver, selfish, egotistic."

"Steve, listen to me, please."Tony is almost begging, following after Steve into his home, so close to dropping to his knees, kissing his feet, beg to be listened, to explain, to wallow."You _know_ me. That _is_ me, the person who takes their coffee black with two sugars and is OCD with his music taste and would choose Burger King Cheeseburgers over a gourmet meal any day, and that- that other stuff, that's not me. _This_ is the real me, not the one in the media, you have to believe that. You have to believe me."

"And why would I do that?"Steve scoffs, shaking his head, turning his body away."After making me believe all of the lies that you told me? Coming into my life and making a fool out of me? In front of my friends?"

" _You_ are the one that came interfering in my life, Steve. _You_ were the one that came into my hospital room, _you_ were the one that left when you saw the Arc Reactor and you were the one that came back so don't fucking stand there and act as if I was the one that came and flipped your life onto its head."Tony shakes with anger, fists trembling, body jittery as he marches after Steve who pauses, turns sharply on heels.

"I was perfectly fucking fine living my life, I had everything planned, I knew what I was doing, what I felt, who I was and then you came into my life- my life changed. And what, you had never heard of me before in your hoot so of course I was going to exploit that and why the fuck wouldn't I? You've seen what I've done, who I am-"

"Oh yeah, a terrible life coming from the family of Billionaires. That must be so fucking hard."He spits with pure venom in his voice, a fire in his eyes, jealousy."Must be terrible to have always have money, to have whatever you want at a snap of the fingers, to be jetting off to one of your many homes around the world. You're so disadvantaged."

Tony's jaw is clenched, teeth grinding, jaw cracking as he restrains himself from shouting, from screaming, from crying out all of his emotions into Steve's face. He juts his chin, looks off to the side of the kitchen, vision glassy from unshed tears and body trembling as he stays quiet. Rich but unloved. Famous but no wanted. Genius but a failure. Advantaged but _disadvantaged_.

"Get out of my house."Steve breaks the silence, body leaning over the kitchen counter, hands gripping the marble, his head tipped down as he breathes heavily through his nose. There's a thickness to his voice and Tony can't trust his own not to break if he does argue back. So he leaves in silence, his back to the house, not looking back, only looking forward as he sits in the drivers seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, tears streaming down his cheeks.

There's nothing left for him, nothing that he can do, because as much as Tony loves Steve, Steve never will love him back. Not anymore.


	25. Twenty Three

The weather outside this morning, and the weather that has continued to drip down throughout the last week, is wet, dreary, dull. It's autumn weather in the middle of spring, with gusty forces of wind that knocks loose pages out from between heavy pages of books and pellets of raindrops that leave you soaked to the bone in a matter if seconds that one time that you forget your umbrella. It's terrible, dreary, sorrowful weather that, without a doubt, matches the state of mind that Tony happens to be stuck in.

This state of mind is not alone, however, because when Tony Stark is sad, or sorrowful or stuck in self-loathing pathetic rut, it's often accompanied by awfully stupid decisions and the need to act as if he hadn't two brain cells to rub together. Which, Tony has learned, is how men like him to be, is how women like him to be, because men and women alike love to have someone who is usually so strung up, well presented and dominant, under their thumb so much so that they can't even string a sentence together. And so, that's how Tony acts.

And is it an act? Tony sometimes finds himself asking, especially now as he lies on his single breasted bed, pushed into the corner of a dorm bedroom that he hardly finds himself occupying. The covers are pooled at his waist, scenting of freshly washed laundry that he's sure Rhodey's mom did for him the last time she came up for Parents Weekend, naked under the sheet with the curtains drawn and the Arc Reactors light glowing the room.

The people in Tony's life have often associated sadness with a secondary trait or emotion, which at a young age of 5, often left Tony in a very conflicted state of mind about the emotion of being sad, of feeling sad, of looking sad. His mother, who often had her own bountiful bundles of sadness herself that she masked with pills and flaunting charity events, had once took Tony's face in her hands, sharp red fingernails digging into his fleshly cheeks, and told him that being sad was ugly, it made you look, feel and be ugly, which hadn't failed to make him feel worse.

Howard, who Tony believed held his own type of deranged sadness in the forms of alcohol and abuse, did not hold back on expressing that by the age of 7, Tony had no right to be crying over scraped knees or in want of a hug when he was feeling extremely sad, or upset, or down. _Starks don't cry Tony_ , Howard's voice still rings in his ears as he digs the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to push back the heavy pressure behind them.

That heavy pressure has been present for days now, tipping towards a week now, and there's only one explanation for its being there. As much as Tony doesn't believe that you can solve your problems with alcohol, it sure doesn't harm him in trying, because when you're drunk you don't care, and when you don't care you don't think, and when you don't think you don't feel and that's exactly what Tony was aiming for.

"Rise and shine!"The bedroom door is swung open at such a force that it has Tony jumping into a sit, heart hammering in his chest as his eyes dart to the door, expecting a murderous intruder because that's the direction that his luck is heading.

"It's like 6am."His voice sounds so foreign to his own ears as he falls back into the bare mattress and Tony suspects it because he can hardly remember himself speaking over the course of the last week, muffled behind a curtain of his alcohol induced mindset.

"It's 2pm,"At this exact moment, Rhodey is ripping open the curtains that had darkened the bedroom, pouring in what light that peeks through the dark clouds of rain in the sky. Tony recoils with a flinch, twisting until he's now buried his face into the mattress of his bed."And as much as I love that you're not locked in your workshop and actually spending time in our dorm, I _hate_ that you're spending time in our dorm."

"First you want me in the dorm, now you want me out of it. Are you ever happy?"

"I won't be happy until you're happy, which you never fucking are."Rhodey is blunt and he's mean, but he's not mean to _hurt_ , he's mean to help and that's what Tony needs to hear right now."You look like death warmed over."

"More like death warmed me over."

"Funny,"Rhodey drawls, grabbing Tony by the arms and yanking him into a sit, recoiling slightly with a turned up nose and grimace."For fuck sake, Tony, when was the last time you showered?"

"Does it matter?"His voice slurs between a mumble and a grumble, head lulling back and body a deadweight in Rhodeys hands, wanting to fall back into the mattress and allow it to swallow him whole like some unexplained, extraordinary black hole that will make him disappear, and coincidently, all of his problem too.

"It matters to my fucking nostrils, get in the shower. Now."

"I never knew I signed up to be babied."

"I never knew I signed up to have a baby, now get in the shower before I force you into the shower. We need to talk."And that short sentence of _we need to talk_ , has sent Tony's blood running cold for a whole new reason for a second time this day, for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on edge, his heart to hammer against his fragile ribcage, to feel it in his throat because a _we need to talk_ is never good, especially for Tony.

A _we need to talk_ is full of confessions or worries or spitfire angered profanities that leave either or both parties huddled in hurt or betrayal or embarrassment. A _we need to talk_ is the signalled discussion of a disbandment, a split, a breakup in all sorts of shapes and forms and right now, or any now perhaps, Tony doesn't think he can take it if Rhodey decided to pack up his stuff and leave Tony in the dust of all of his makeshift problems.

Tony doesn't shower, but instead, he stands before the bathroom sink, the mirror hinged to the bathroom wall. The reflection that stares back at him looks horrible, a picture of someone who has been dealt the worst hand of cards at the poker game of life, dragged through a hedge backwards, and Tony knows deep down, under all of his self pity and self loath, that he's to blame for his state of mind, his state of self.

But Rhodey is right, he does stink, of sweat and sex and booze and now that it's been pointed out it's hard to ignore. He should _shower_ , but he doesn't because the thought of stepping into the bathtub and not coming back out is all too tempting, so instead he grabs for a cloth and some soap and makes work with a post-sex wash that is usually followed by dragging soiled jeans up wobbly legs and stumbling to his 8am at 11am instead. 

There's a hoodie laying on his bedroom floor, a pale blue and softened with age and laundry detergent, one that Tony recognises only for its odd appearance in his bedroom of oil greased tanks and dirty work boots. It sticks out like a sore thumb, from his colour, it's touch, it's smell as he brings it up to his nose; of how laundry smells on a windy day, of freshly cut grass and cheap, old cologne that makes Tony want to bury his nose in the scent that rests at the base of Steve's neck.

He puts it on, out of nagging sorrow and spilling sadness, it's too big.

"Food, eat."Tony likes to call their living quarters a dorm but in retrospect, it's an apartment on the edge of campus with all expenses paid and the only worry you have is to make sure your key doesn't fall into the wrong hands and that there's milk in the fridge. Maria accommodates them, their rent, bills, maid service if need be, and it's one if the few things that Rhodey does accept as a Stark curtesy because as a college student, he'd rather take a blow at his self pride rather than being neck deep in debt.

"Cut the bullshit, Rhodey."Tony stares at the plate of pancakes that's been pushed towards him on the small kitchen table, the two seats tucked under the table, the pancakes drizzled in syrup and sprinkled with blueberries. Tony wants to rip this off like a bandaid, get it over and done with, delay the trauma and pain, but he's not very good at either of that.

"Tony-"

"No, don't _Tony_ me. You have something to tell me, or something to yell at me, and it's eating you up inside but instead you're trying to butter me up with _pancakes_? C'mon, man, you know I'm a waffle kind of guy, if you're going to dump me at least get my favourite breakfast food right."

"Wait-"

"Look, I'll get you started-"Tony is throwing open cupboards, rummaging get through them, throwing out items that look like they belong to Tony."You can keep the place, I'll live in the workshop, god knows I'll only be here for a short while anyway, I'll pay the rent for you, and your groceries, and whatever else that you want-"

"Tony!"Rhodeys voice has changed from desperate to anger, slamming down the mug that had been cradled in his hands onto the kitchen table, to show his desperation, his anger, his confusion at Tony's frantic.

"I'm going! I'm going!"Tony is frantic with trying to get himself out of the apartment before he starts to make things worse, of only he could find his goddamn... _something_. And by god he wishes he could remember, but instead, he's staring into a half empty, half full cupboard or mismatched plates.

"I swear to- stop this! Stop this right now!"Rhodey has grabbed Tony by the shoulders, spun him around until his back is to the kitchen counter, hands tight on his shoulders, Rhodey caging Tony's body with his own. Tony's face falls, eyes wide in shock and unsuspecting fear that bubbles under the surface before it's schooled, face set to match the frustrated anger and determination of Rhodeys own. They're breathing heavy, chests falling rapidly as Rhodey speaks quieter."Just fucking stop it."

It's a familiar position for Tony to find himself in, with heavy hands gripping his shoulders, body pressed against a wall, a counter, the door of a lecture hall or the velvet sofa of a V.I.P lounge area, but this time, he's not scared, just _shocked_. Tony _knows_ that Rhodey would never hurt him, but it's the shock of the tension, the anger, the frustration, the way that Rhodey looks at him with clouded eyes and with a tensed body.

"Steve, he-"

"I know."Tony's attention is snapped back to Rhodey, eyes narrowed, lips parting with visible disbelief.

"No you don't."Because there's no way that Rhodey would know, or maybe there is, because Tony isn't as discreet as he wishes that he could be, and Tony is also very oblivious to tabloids and gossip for someone who spends so much of their time fiddling with ways of how to improve technology and creating shortcuts to life.

But Tony is not just oblivious, he's learned how to ignore, void, block out the negativities of his life that he doesn't like to dwell on because he might be aware of his negatives, of the activities that he gets up to after dusk and until dawn, but he doesn't want to remember and nor does he want to dwell. He just _lives_. A day at a time, where he can ignore yesterday and carry on with today, and if only he could do that about Steve.

"I know that something happened,"His tone of voice has taken a softer edge than before because he knows that Tony is hurting, but Tony hates the idea of people knowing that despite how easily Rhodey figures it out. And it's like dancing around a ticking time bomb, because that's what Tony is sometimes, a bomb just ticking, filled with emotions and feelings and _problems_ a lot bigger than his face smacked on the front page of some tabloid.

Tony scoffs, looking away from Rhodey but neither of them really moving away, his eyes falling onto the discarded mug that Rhodey had slammed onto the kitchen counter as he scrambled to catch up with Tony's hyperactivity of leaving. It's his mug, battered and worn with fading design on its painted coloured ceramic, coffee stained on the inside and burnt at the bottom from times that he accidentally left it on burning surfaces in the workshop.

His workshop, where his favourite mug is usually stranded, filled with cold, old coffee or sometimes stuffed with pens and rubber bands that he keeps for the sole purpose of entertaining Dumm-E when he's bored. His favourite mug that lives in his workshop and hasn't been taken out since...since-

"You're going,"Tony's face is frozen, his voice is laced with dread and realisation that has every fibre of his being to tense and flinch simultaneously. His chest stills, there's a sharp intake of breath that follows his jagged, pointed words because as much as Tony knew this was happening, he didn't think it would be this quick.

"Tones, I've been offered a position and,"Rhodeys words are half lost as he might as well be speaking into a void because Tony isn't listening to the words that he's saying now, but the words that Tony himself spoke moments before. _You're going_. And those words are stuck in Rhodeys mind as well, an accusation not a demand.

"When?"

"Soon, not now, but soon."

"When, tell me _when_."

"June 2nd."He coughs up the confession, watching how the various emotions seem to flicker through Tony's eyes in a matter of seconds before they settle on one.

"Jesus, Rhodey!"Tony pushes away from the counter and Rhodey sees it coming, moving out of the way, watching as Tony starts his pacing around the apartment, his hands smoothing roughly over his face, his chin, pulling down his cheeks as he groans."Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"When? In between your partying or your manic depressive episodes?"He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and he makes such an action that is seen as negative look for casual as he drawls out his mocking words, not unkindly, and Tony knows that.

"Hey,"Tony turns on the heel of his foot, pointing his index finger at Rhodey accusingly.

"Am I wrong?"

"No, you're not wrong, because you never fucking are, but don't use that as an excuse."He turns away, pacing again. Tony stands by the window, fogged with condensation, and it's dramatic of him to act this way, and he knows it, and he knows that he has no right to because Rhodey had decided to join the Air Force long before he had met Tony.

 

But Tony hates the thought of it because not only is he losing his best friend, but he's losing him to unknown territory that Tony is yet to become familiar with yet. Tony doesn't like the unknown, he doesn't like not knowing. It's much the same feeling that he has with Steve right now, or not knowing how he is, or what he's up to, or not being able to send him a quick message before bed or have him on speaker phone when he fiddles in the workshop. He doesn't _know_ and it _hurts_.

"Look after yourself."Rhodeys reflection appears in the window, standing behind Tony in a way that the male lead of a romantic comedy would then embrace the female lead during their tragic downfall. Tony scoffs, rolling his eyes and turning away from the rain stained window to look at Rhodey.

"I do look after myself."

"You don't. You and I both know that."Rhodey sighs, shaking his head whenever Tony huffs and moves to turn away, but he's being grabbed around the shoulders and yanked against a chest instead. He tenses, if only for a second or two, before his arms are around Rhodey and his hands are gripping the back of his t-shirt, pressed to his shoulder, eyes closed tight.

Tony can't remember the last time he had been hugged like this, before New Years perhaps, that night that Rhodey had nearly caught the exchange between Tony and Obi, where Tony had been shaken and exhausted and had collapsed into a heap of need of touch, starved from it. Or the night in the diner, just as Tony and Steve had been parting, Tony not wanting to leave and Steve not wanting him to go, and they had hugged tightly on the diners porch at 6am.

There's a pain within Tony at those memories, of how it felt to be held by someone who he cared for, by people who had cared for him. And now, Tony can't even dare to think of Steve caring for him, of his state of mind, of his health, of how he is, much like Tony still cares for him in those ways. Steve's hatred and anger and betrayal that Tony had inflicted himself is still vivid in Tony's mind, of how Tony had changed someone, someone so sweet and kind and caring to have hatred for someone. For Tony.

"What the fuck is wrong with me,"Tony's words are muffled, his tongue heavy and his mouth feeling numb because the words that come out of his mouth are so harsh and filled with venom that is only directed at himself. The grip that he has on Rhodeys t-shirt tightens, he pulls himself closer, standing on his tiptoes as he's held, a heavy pressure behind his eyes as his voice quakes."I'm such a fucking asshole."

His mouth opens to comfort, to release words of calm reassurance or sympathy, but the words don't come out and Rhodey is sure that Tony doesn't want to hear them either. There's a fine line to their friendship, because Rhodey may fight the world for Tony's revenge, but he's not blinded by his mistakes and his problems, in which the mountain is piling. 

But he's a friend, his best friend, and so Rhodey holds him just as tight and stands with him until their legs are numb and the tears have dried and Tony pulls away with dried tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes are red, but neither of them say anything of it. And Tony clears his throat, turns away slightly but not really moving away.

"I'm feeling for some Chinese food."

"I made you pancakes."

"Honey bear, I love you and all but you can't cook."Tony is yanking the chinese takeaway menu off of the fridge and flicking it open, eyes scanning the pages and knowing exactly that he's not going to bake to decide on two options and order half of the menu which means Chinese left overs for the next week.

"As if your Gordon Ramsay."Rhodey snorts.

"Of course not, that's why takeaway was invented babe."Tony is pushing the menu into Rhodeys hands as he passes, heading towards his bedroom for the phone that he has stuffed down the side of his mattress to keep himself from constantly looking at his phone."Pick something and then tell them I'll have my usual."

The bedroom door closes behind him and suddenly, Tony's back is pressed flat against the wooden door, hands braced on the smooth wood, his heart hammer in his chest, feeling it in his chest, his throat, hearing it in his ears as it starts to _crash_. Everything around Tony starts to break away, fall apart, an avalanche of his life that is just tumbling towards a stranded Tony at the bottom of the mountain.

There's a heavy pressure held down onto his chest that has him restrained against the door, chained him to something heavy enough to have him drown, all alone at the bottom of some dark, deep void of an ocean without even a strangers help because he has know one. There's no Mom, or Jarvis, or Peggy or Rhodey and there's no Steve. There's no one. 

There will be no one for Tony Stark at his final fall.


	26. Twenty Four

"-Tasha said that we can borrow her car, which is an understatement because she gave me a fucking Bible of instructions on how to start the stupid piece of shit, and apparently, if we damage it, we have to pay for it as if it's not already falling apart- and you're not even _listening_ , Steve."

"Something about Natasha's piece of shit car and paying for damages."

"Lucky guess,"Bucky grumbles, flicking a piece of eraser across the classroom and successfully hitting Clint in the face with it, watching how Clint whips his head around in confusion, trying to figure out what had hit him and who it was. Clint, despite the fact that his hobby and possibly future career is in dire need of being constantly socially away, is very much an oblivious, slow mess. He is the only person that Steve knows who could sense that you were coming his way 2 miles away but would jump out of his skin if you tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

Part of Steve when he thinks of stupid, funny little quirks that his friends posses, has him spiralling into a terminal state of depression of his current life choices, of his own ambitions and wants and needs. His career, or his hopeful career, is going to take him far away from the moment that he's in now, surrounded by his friends, the people that he cares for, in the moment and being apart of the memory, which is the fearful part.

It's not that Steve fears of regretting his decision, it's more that Steve fears of what he'll miss out, which is a lot worse in his head, anyway. Steve, as much as it sounds shallow and self-important, has always been the centre of their group. He's always been the one to make decisions, sway them out of trouble or take the brunt of the trouble instead. They always hang out at his house, in his garden, around his schedule of school, extracurricular activities, volunteering, visiting Tony in the times that he did.

And now, that's all going to change, and in a way, it already has started. There's pieces of Steve's life, certain aspects and events, people and places, that have already changed in Steve's life in a way he hadn't expected, and maybe he should've. Sometimes he is naive and oblivious, unaware of the things that are happening around him, and sometimes, that's his own fault. But he doesn't want to dwell, this isn't the time.

Bucky soon gets bored with flicking pieces of eraser at a disadvantaged Clint Barton, turning back to look at Steve whose head is prompted up by his hand and looking off into the distance, mind distracted and uninterested by his surroundings. Bucky bites his bottom lip momentarily, a heavy sigh taking over him before he speaks up.

"How's your mom?"He asks tenderly, watching as Steve sighs, his chest rising and falling heavily, eyes turning from the window to Bucky who sits a desk diagonal from him, slanted in a chair and long dark hair falling over his face a little.

"We're not talking."

"Bad, then?"There's a sort of wince to his words as he scratches his nail over a carved marking on the wooden table, the initials or nickname of some student from years ago that had been carved into the wood, made to stay for decades to come as if people care for who they are.

"Not exactly great, no."They're both silent because Steve doesn't really want to talk but Bucky really does want him to, which is a dynamic that the two of them have never really worked out the kinks to. Both, however, hate dragged silences but Steve hates them more."She's more upset than she is mad at the decision, and right okay, I _get_ her. I get where she's coming from, sometimes, but she also has not right."

"She has every right, she's your _ma_ , punk."There's a sort of desperation behind Bucky's voice on the word _ma_ because Steve could be 40, married with children and working his dream job but Sarah Rogers has every right to have an opinion and say on his life. Steve is her only child, her son, her baby, her pride and joy because everyone knows that the reason Sarah has worked so hard in her life is to give Steve the best life as possible and that she sees none of her wages for herself.

"So you're saying if your mom had a problem with it, you wouldn't go?"

"Of course my mom has a fucking problem with it, what sane mother wouldn't?"Mrs.Barnes, despite everything, loves Bucky a whole lot more than people think. She's a hardworking mother of 4, 3 of which who need her care more than Bucky does, and he only understood that that morning he told her he wanted to sign up for the army. Bucky had stood there by the sink and watched every emotion wash over his moms features, watched the fear in her eyes, listened to the lecture of why he shouldn't go, how he couldn't go, why she didn't want him to go."But she knows I'm going, no matter what she says."

"Well, so am I."Steve has rolled his shoulders back, squared them up as he sits up straighter, and Bucky _knows_ this stance. It's the stance of dominance, a tactic to overcome fragile masculinity, to win an argument, to show he's right, when he puts on his stubborn, headstrong head on. It's a stance that causes most arguments and one that nearly everyone is very familiar with.

The conversation is dropped rather quickly when Bucky fails to find something to add up on, turning away in his seat to watch as an argument unfolds somewhere at the front of the class, leaving Steve to his own brooding thoughts that wrack his mind. Somewhere, deep down under all of the arrogance and pride and self-respect, there's a little bit of guilt floating about in Bucky's system every time he glances at Steve, watches as he frowns, analyses the lines on his face, the way his body is hunched when it's not rigid for a fight.

But he pushes down the guilty, self-loathing part of himself that rears it's ugly head during random parts of his day, when he's away on a jog or with his arm draped over Natasha's shoulders as they watch a film on the couch. It makes him tense, it makes him feel rotten, it makes him think that maybe he shouldn't have been so filled with smugness and eager to gloat that Tony, _Tony Stark_ , was a shifty fucker just as he suspected from the start. And so he pushes it down, because he was _right_ and Steve was wrong, and he was just being a _true friend_ unlike everyone who licked up Tony's ass the moment they met him.

Steve knows this, because he might be in a constant solemn headspace of brooding and short temperament, but he isn't too oblivious of the fact that Bucky is still parading around with a smug face and a proud attitude. Steve also knows, despite the fact that sometimes he can't even see the nose on the front of his face never mind his surroundings, that he's been the topic of many conversation and the discussion of many planned intervention too, something in which he is an expert at avoiding.

 _Tony_. His voice still rings in Steve's head even know, as he finds himself back at home, away from the constant voices of fellow peers and worried glances from friends who don't know the meaning of personal space and boundaries, cloaked in the darkness of his bedroom where curtains are drawn shut and his bed is freshly made. Tony's name still floats behind his eyes when he closes them, his voice ringing in his ears, his touch on his skin, his scent lingered on places he touched months ago.

Because Tony is not only intoxicating, he's a _drug_. He's something that you crave yet you shouldn't have because it'll rot you, create a monster out of you, destroy your life little by little until it's taken away from you and you're left in the decay. But intoxication always feels good when you're riding on that high, of the scent of his expensive cologne or freshly pressed coffee, of the roughness of his finger tips in comparison to the softness of his lips, of the way his eyes lift when he smiles, crinkles with his grin, laughs when he laughs.

It hurts. It hurts a lot more than Steve has ever felt in his life as he lies on his bed, palms of his hand dug into his eyes to take the pressure off from behind his eyes, to stop this pathetic cycle he has caught himself in. Steve would be lying if he told himself that the months have gotten better, that he's forgotten and moved on, but he hasn't, and his solution is a distraction instead.

The kitchen is quiet as Steve enters after his nap, ready to grab himself a bottle of water from the fridge before waiting out on the front porch for Bucky to pick him up in Natasha's car to sign up. His mom is already there, sitting at the kitchen table about to go to work but willing to wait for her son to make an appearance, a last minute intervention.

"You're really doing this, yeah?"Under all of her stature and strong facade, holding herself up high and strong and independent, Steve can hear that slight tremble of fear in her voice as the words deep through her lips. He doesn't need to turn from where he is at the doorway, already in half a mind to turn back around and forget his intentions, to know there's a look of anguish and a motherly fear breaking through the mask she usually wears on her face.

And Steve _feels_ it, he feels every single piece of fear that his mother holds, every single piece of her motherly instinct in the room that tries to convince him not to go, not to sign up, not to leave her. And she isn't being selfish because really, no mother truly is, and she's doing it for her son, even if he doesn't realise it yet.

"I'm going to come back, Mom."Steve isn't sure if he's reassuring himself or Sarah when he speaks those words, half way between being numb about the whole ideal and being ecstatic about it as well. 

"This isn't just a fight that you start on the corner of the street, Steve, this is a war."She tries to empathise, wanting to get it into Steve's head, make him know that this isn't something small or little, it's not a petty fight or one that can easily be brushed under the carpet, it's a war, a grown-up fight, so be it."You could come away with a lot more than a few scrapes and a busted nose, you could lose your life."

"I know,"His voice is soft, softer than it's been in weeks, in months, because he's had no one to speak softly to, he's had no one to whisper reassurances or murmur praises and encouragements, or to be gentle around a subject because he no longer wants to be gentle. But this is his mom, someone who spent years being gentle around him, picking him up when he fell, looking after him when he was ill, working hard to pay off medical bills, buy him Christmas gifts, take him out for breakfasts.

And Steve knows, he knows of all of the consequences that come with going to war, he knows that it's a lot bigger than just looking out for the little guy, because he's not just doing that now, he's looking out for himself, for a team, for a country, for his mom and friends back home. The more he thinks of it, the more frightened he becomes, but he's so much more than fear, because he wants to fight for his country, he wants to be loyal and respectful, he wants to give back and he's not going to do that if he's just sitting at home.

"I know,"Sarah echoes just as softly, her words confirming that she knows what is going on in her sons mind, of all of his conflicting but knucklehead filled thoughts, of where his morals and loyalty stands."Just, please-"

"I'll try."He answers what she can't dare speak and then they're hugging, wrapped in one another's arms in the middle of the kitchen and Sarah can't help the feeling that she's hugging her little boy, not the big strapping lad that's actually wrapped in her arms because all she feels, and all she imagines is 5 year old Steve with scraped knees and a runny nose."I'll have Buck with me, don't worry."

"That gives me even more reason to worry."She snorts, pulling away from the hug but with hesitant actions, a slight quiver in her voice but she pulls herself together just like she always does because she's Sarah Rogers and she's strong, despite the fact she's hurting and despite the fact she disapproves but she can't stop him. 

It's Steve's life. It's Steve's war. And he'll make her proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A time skip will commence after this chapter so hold onto your seats ladies and gents


End file.
